Eternity Complex Ch 3.

Driving over to her parents house, feeling decidedly better after a large bowl of cereal and 2 cups of coffee with some painkillers for her pounding head, Angeline tried to call the house again so she could find out what was really bothering her mum. The phone rang out twice, so she gave up, hoping her mum hadn’t decided to go out without her already. She still couldn’t shake her worry though, the more she thought about it, the less sense the whole conversation made.

She tried to stick to the speed limit, but kept finding herself checking her speed and having to slow down. No matter how much she thought she was concentrating, the numbers kept creeping up, along with her sense of unease. The traffic seemed determined to slow her down, as if everything was conspiring against her to keep her from seeing her parents. So it was a relief when she finally pulled into her parents driveway to see both her parents cars parked ahead of her.

Still nervous, she jumped out of her car and headed for the front door. It was a beautiful autumn day, and the large trees in the front yard were covered in flame red leaves. Some had already given up clinging to the branches and lay scattered across the front lawn, waiting for someone to come rake them up. Angeline had always loved autumn at home, it made her feel safe and secure watching the leaves fall like a blanket around her. This time she didn’t notice any of it as she crunched through the leaves as if stepping on splayed skeletal hands.

Unlocking the large wooden door and stepping inside, she heard the same strange rasping noise she’d noticed in the background of the phone call. She tilted her head slightly, trying figure out where it was coming from. Walking forward slowly, she followed the sound as it increased in volume into the kitchen at the back of the house, all the while trying to work out what strange appliance could be producing it. It didn’t sound like anything she’d heard before, but it was somehow vaguely familiar, in a disturbing way.

Although the cars had been there, Angeline didn’t hear any of the usual chatter or movement she would expect if her parents were home. Apart from the strange grating sound there was silence, and her unease made her reluctant to call out. As she came through the kitchen door, the rasping became much clearer, and she turned her head to find the most horrific sight in her life on the other side of the room.

Her mother lay twisted on the floor, legs and arms bent in unnatural directions, one leg with three distinct bends. Blood covered the upper half of her body, and pooled out around her head, where there was a large portion of her shoulder and neck missing. Crouched over her, like a deranged hunting animal after a kill, was her father. The rasping emanated from him, and his bloodied hands clawed at her, tearing more pieces of flesh from her lifeless body.

Angeline’s head spun, she felt bile rising in her throat, and she fell against the wall next to her. She felt like she was going to faint, and a piercing shriek escaped from her lips before she even realised she was going to make a sound. Her father’s head snapped around, and she saw, terrified, that he was definitely not the man she knew. Her tall, slightly balding, kindly middle aged father had enormous deep, dark circles around his sunken, glassy eyes. His mouth hung open, blood smeared around it; his glasses were broken and barely hung on his face. He looked like a grotesque caricature of himself.

He leapt up and began walking clumsily towards her, still coughing his uneven gasps. Angeline screamed once more and stumbled backwards, trying to find the doorway. She fell back through it just as her hands found the edge, and slipped over, landing painfully on her backside. He advanced on her, his breath becoming more ragged, and bloody bubbles of froth spilled over his bottom lip. Angeline sat on the floor, transfixed with terror.

As he continued his jerky gait toward her he snarled, his top lip curling up menacingly, showing a mouth dripping with blood and black bile. Unable to take her eyes off him, Angeline tried pushing herself backwards along the floor, her legs sliding uselessly along the polished boards. He looked like something out of a horror film, and her fear stopped her from getting all her limbs working together well enough to rise from the floor and flee. When he was within a metre of her he paused and growled deeply, like a savage dog about to pounce. Then he leaped forward at her.

His sudden swiftness startled her, and Angeline cried out and rolled to the side, scrabbling to her hands and feet as quickly as she could. Her dad landed heavily on the floor where she had been a second earlier, and let out a howl of frustration. Angeline managed to get herself upright, only to see his head jerked unnaturally to the side, and he grabbed a photo frame from the small mahogany table next to him and hurled it viciously at her. It struck her sharply in the shoulder, its pointed glass cutting through her shirt and stabbing into her flesh. He rose quickly to his feet and charged.

Faced with the real possibility of him tearing her to pieces, Angeline decided to get out of the house, any way she could. Back peddling frantically, she tried get herself back to the front door and out to freedom, stumbling and crashing against walls, barely managing to keep her footing. As she reached the open entrance hall of the house, her father had suddenly stopped chasing her and began hissing wildly, like a trapped feral cat. He leaned forward threateningly, but didn’t take another step. Angeline kept moving backwards, coming up against something hard. She felt an arm snake out around her waist and pull her tight. Startled and close to hysteria, she screamed loudly once more and struggled to break free, but was held firm. She looked down and saw a strong pale arm clenched tightly about her. Even more confused and fearful, she bashed uselessly against the hard limb, trying to free herself.

“Don’t move! It’s alright,” a male voice barked sharply. He sounded slightly less homicidal than her father currently was, so she paused, terrified of what might happen next.

Her fears seemed founded when suddenly there was a gun next to her face. Maybe he was going to kill her after all, she thought dejectedly. Then she noticed it was pointedly directly at her dad. She saw his inhuman eyes widen in anger and fear, and he screeched a gargling, guttural curse before a single shot rang out. It struck him between the eyes, and they glazed over as a revolting red spray befouled the wall behind him. He stayed standing for a second, then fell in a crumpled heap on the floor.

The arm around her relaxed a few seconds later, and Angeline slid to the floor, sobbing loudly. She had no idea what had just unfolded, and how she had miraculously escaped death herself. The whole situation was so unreal, and she couldn’t shake either the sight of her mother’s body on the floor, or the insane look in her father’s eyes.