The Green Slime Part-2

  Miles was already moving as the car was rolling, “Are you two okay” he said. No one answered.



Sara was already moving to Alison. Miles started toward them, “We have to get out here!”.



Sara was fumbling with the Alison’s seat belt buckle, confused  by the crash. Then she found it and had it unbuckled, just as Miles reached them. He grabbed Alison as the belt came loose and she dropped into his arms. She was shaking and sobbing, but he didn’t dare waste precious time comforting her. There would be time for that when they reached safety. Right now they had to get out of there and find someplace to hide. Miles pulled Alison into the front of the Jeep, and was dragging her out of the door less drivers side, when he spotted the grotesque half-gorilla shaped mass at the passenger side window. It was motionless and featureless, but undoubtedly watching them, or studying them with some other sense.



“Sara, hurry up! Get out!” Miles shouted as he pulled Alison away from the Jeep and behind him into the torrential downpour.



  Miles grabbed Sara by her forearms and stood as he intended to pull her out of the overturned Jeep. He heard the passenger side glass shatter, and felt resistance as he pulled; Sara‘s fingernails cut deep into his wrist. Simultaneously Sara let out a bloodcurdling cry of pain and terror. Miles thought of the tortured screams of the animal they had heard earlier, and his stomach churned as a wave of nausea swept through him. As quickly as the resistance started it abruptly stopped, and Miles pulled the remaining half of Sara’s lifeless body from the door less Jeep, a disgusting pile of entrails followed. The viscera made Miles gag and just as he thought he would vomit the urge passed. Miles let go of the of the corpse and stumbled backward tripping over Alison. He fell in the muddy soil next to her. Miles had a clear view of the inside of the jeep, but there was no sign of the creature, or the other half of Sara’s body. Only broken safety glass shimmered in the soft light that was left. Sara’s upper body lay face down in the mud, her pale arms outstretched.



Alison was making shrill whining noises and starring blankly into the premature darkness. She had witnessed the mutilation of her mother by the monstrous thing. Miles cupped her face in his hands and turned her until she was looking directly at him. Her blonde hair was now soaked and stuck to her face. She was looking right at him, but was focused on something far more distant. Miles thought she must be in shock. He pulled her close as he got to his feet. They had to keep moving until they were far from this wicked storm. Miles lifted Alison unto his back and started down the slick treacherous path. Alison flung her arms around his neck and held on as tight as she could. The way sloped at a slight angle, and in places the mud was slick as ice, but in other spots his feet would sink as if walking in quicksand. Lightening crashed, so close it temporarily deafened him and made his teeth rattle. As the vibrations made there way through his bones he looked back the way he had come, and saw several long thin arms exploring the jeep. The oversized hands pushed the jeep back onto it’s tires, and lifted it up into the air. As the arms ascended back into the clouds from which they had come, Miles saw that one carried the upper half of Sara’s body. Miles was entranced at the spectacle. The giant powerful limbs moved gracefully as they lifted the heavy jeep. When he tried to imagine what they might be connected to, a frisson of terror shot through him. He turned and continued down the narrow pathway.



Miles was moving relatively fast considering the difficulty of the terrain. Alison was gripping his neck fiercely, but his adrenalin dulled any pain that she caused. Her face was nestled against his shoulder and neck. She was still making low cries of misery. He had only been running for a few minutes, but to him it seemed like a lifetime. Lightening flashed again, and he saw hands directly in front of him. Three or four morbid hands prodding the air. Miles stopped, unsure of what to do next. He felt something touch the top of his head from behind and he immediately recoiled. He took a quick step forward, turned, and looked up at more hands protruding from the clouds. One came at him and touched his cheek. He moved back again and into the hands of more unknown entities. They caressed his face while gently feeling him, as a blind person might read Braille. He turned, and with no other choice pushed through the dark green hands. The hands were even more disturbing up close. The unnaturally long greasy fingers were cold to the touch, and the nails were slightly pointed, and white as bone. While not exactly smelling offensive, the hands had a distinctive odor as foreign as their source. Miles moved slowly through the sea of exploring hands, praying they wouldn’t snatch Alison and him up, and into the darkness. He knew they were as fragile as porcelain china under the foot of an elephant. The memory of the arms, grabbing the dear and the car, was still fresh in his mind. When he pushed through the last of the hands he was surprised and relieved that none of them followed.



Miles picked up his speed once free of the hands when something fell over his shoulder. Surprised he starred at the object stupidly. Then it hit him like a freight train, it was Alison’s severed head. Her wide dead eyes now filled with ugly starburst hemorrhages. Miles unhooked his hands from under Alison’s knees and let her body drop to the ground. He turned to look at the slumped body lying in a hideous posture in the mud. Her head pinched off moments earlier while navigating through the hands. The offensive slimy hands were still searching the empty air a few feet away from him. Overwhelmed by emotions, Miles fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Everything he loved had been taken away from him in this godforsaken place.



The hands came closer, and one carefully picked up the severed head of his beloved daughter, between thumb and forefinger, and lifted it as if it was fragile glass. He felt like laying down and just giving up, but before he was even aware of what was happening, he was back on his feet and running. Miles felt detached from his body; like a spectator with no control over his own actions. He didn’t feel afraid any longer because he didn’t feel anything. He just blindly ran as fast as he could in almost total darkness. Then he was in the air, flailing in every direction. He hit the rocks violently and was enveloped in blackness as he lost consciousness.



Miles awoke with a severe headache, confused to where he was and how he had gotten there. The side of his head stung, and when touched he felt dried blood caused by a sore gash. He put pressure on the deep wound, and hissed as pain splintered throughout his head. His eyes hurt, and watered from the brightness all around him. Miles moved to his knees and examined his surroundings trying to remember where he was. He was in a rock cluttered ravine about 10 feet deep. He must have fallen of the edge and been knocked unconscious. The blood from his wound was completely dry, so he assumed he had been lying here for hours. The sun was uncomfortably bright and hot. He continued to study the environment looking for a clue to his whereabouts.



A few minutes later things started coming back to him. At first they came in the form of small fragments that didn’t make sense, but then almost at once they flooded into his mind. He remembered everything and instantly wished he hadn’t. The green slime, the strange clouds, and the ghoulish thin arms with giant hands, and the gruesome deaths of Sara and Alison. He vomited violently on the blood stained rocks, and started to cry.



Miles got to his feet, still in tears. He didn’t know how long he had been there, because he had lost all sense of time. As we walked he thought of the past events. The same place he had come to selfishly end himself three years earlier, had in the end taken everything from him. To Miles the worst thing about the nightmare was having survived it alone. He felt he was being punished by being kept alive. Sara and Alison, the only people he truly loved, had been forever taken away. Now he wished he still had his gun, so he could do what he should have done 3 years ago. Maybe if he hadn’t been a coward, who foolishly led himself to believe he was doing the righteous thing by not killing himself, Sara and Alison would still be alive. Now because he had brought them here, they were dead. All he had ever brought them was the emotional pain of his depression and craziness, and the physical pain of their heinous deaths. Miles resembled a horror movie zombie as he silently stumbled his way down out of the forest. An instinctive motivation to survive still urged him, even though he had absolutely nothing left to live for.



The End