Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

Casey brandished one of the Redcoats’ energy rifles. He let it charge as long as he dared and fired. The blast broke off a chunk of flesh from one of the round beasts and sent it tumbling across the snow like a billiards ball smacked by the cue. That blasted chunk smoothed its edges, grew tendrils and eyes and a mouth, then spun forward.

Alpha team could not stop the rolling things, but they did stop.

The alarm from the gateway echoed across the snow-filled air. The rolling monsters reversed direction and raced back to their guard posts. The humans of Alpha team watched them go with great relief. Everything they had thrown at the creatures had been ineffective. Nina realized in a huff of despair that they still had much to learn about their enemies.

More lessons were forthcoming…

…Its skin came into the world…a scaly, tinny skin that could have been organic or could have been built in some horrid workshop. Its legs-two of them-like towers. Its body, clothed or natural skin was unclear but it did not matter for its scales appeared as solid as a Titan’s armor. Goat-like horns wrapped its head on either side of raging red eyes. Its arms; it stood upright but instead of hands it sported cloven hooves.

Certainly, this monster served as the root of all satanic visions. Had the ancient Greeks seen this beast? Or the Romans? The Minoans? Truly a horror to inspire poets to sing verses of Hell and damnation.

It roared as it came into this reality and the ground trembled.

Trevor watched as the Cadillac swerved to flee. The creature that inspired dreams of Lucifer kicked the puny vehicle, flipping it across the snow.

Trevor heard Washburn’s grunts and exhales via the open radio as the car cascaded end over end before resting against an abandoned minivan.

Trevor pleaded as a knot of fear grew his stomach, "Danny! Get the hell out of there!"

"Argh…workin’ on it, Trev."

Stone realized Danny and his escape team had probably rolled out of the blast radius, but that might be the least of their worries. The giant demon stepped forward. The heavy step shook the world.

Washburn, Bird, and two others scrambled from the battered SUV.

Bird did not make it another step. The demon-thing’s cloven arms slammed down and pulverized the insect.

The other three stumbled off through snow nearly knee-deep.

"Christ, run, Danny, run."

The 18-wheeler erupted in a rolling burst of fire and concussion, blowing a wall of white in all directions. The explosion forced Trevor and Dante to cover behind the rim of the roof. The shock wave blew as if a hurricane. The building beneath wobbled and threatened collapse. Waves of snow and dirt and debris carried overhead in a gale of destruction filling the air with a burning smell, a blast of heat, and a cry of destruction.

Trevor's ears crackled then rang; he felt oxygen sucked from his lungs.

The sound of the blast echoed into the distance, the tremble and shake slowed then stopped, but the burning smell lingered and a terrible wail grew from soft to loud.

Dante and Trevor stood.

The gateway had evaporated. In its place spun a screeching, screaming vortex. The squirming nest of worm-things-fat and white and covered in fibers-floated above that whirlpool of reality.

At the eye of that vortex bubbled a ball of red, maybe fire. One by one those vulgar worms dropped into that ball of red and disappeared through the portal.

The vortex expanded, growing larger and louder as it widened across the parking lot. Trevor and Dante clamped hands over ears to chase away the forlorn wail. The snow-covered concrete, the cars, the light posts; all warped then stretched then disappeared down that well to whatever place had sent the nightmares.

The vortex enveloped the rolling puss creatures. The vortex sucked down the towering demon. The creature bellowed and raged as its glowing eyes sunk from view.

The blast had knocked Washburn and his team to the ground. They slowly staggered to their feet but were even slower to recognize the encroaching danger.

Trevor gathered his senses and screamed as loud as he could into his radio.

"Danny! Danny, run!"

Too late.

The expanding vortex enveloped Washburn and his team. Trevor heard Danny’s confused voice over the radio, barely audible beneath the moaning, crying maelstrom.

"Wh-what? What is this?"

Stone watched his friend warp and stretch…

"What is this? Oh God, Trevor! Help us!"

…and disappear into Hell…

"What is this place? It hurts! TREVOR! HELP US FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! YOU CAN’T LEAVE US! TREVOR! HELP ME! HELP ME! WHAT ARE THESE THINGS? GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF! OH GOD OHGODOHGOD…"

The vortex collapsed and disappeared, its shriek silenced. The radio frequency cut.

The cold snow of a December afternoon fell fast so as to fill the wide round crater where a part of the Earth had once been.

– Trevor sat alone in the dark on the top floor of Hunter hall.

Outside, the storm had stopped shortly after dusk leaving behind a tranquil, snow-covered campus with drifts pushed high against walls. A first-quarter moon glowed above and white grains of snowy powder gusted in and out of the moonbeams while the wind whispered amongst the dead buildings. The temperature had dropped dramatically with the setting sun. A cold, dry air hovered overhead.

Several hours past since Danny Washburn and his men were dragged off into some other dimension. Yet despite the demolition team’s grisly fate, Stone’s surviving soldiers considered the mission a success.

Of course, they were right. Certainly the Old Man would agree. A small price to pay for walking the path.

Trevor closed his eyes.

Help us for Christ’s sake! You can’t leave us!

He pounded a fist into his forehead, leaned against the corner of the room, and slumped to the floor. He purposely ignored the blanket there, shunning the warmth it offered as if he did not deserve such comforts.

He heard her footsteps in the hallway. He did not want to see her. He did not want to be seen by her.

Nina entered the room with a flashlight in hand. She spotted him huddled in the corner exhaling short puffs of frosty breath.

"Trevor? You okay?"

He did not respond.

She walked to him.

They had not spoken since the end of the attack. She had been busy organizing everyone for the night. They would start the return trip in the morning.

Nina knelt next to him. She saw him shiver.

"You getting sick?"

She placed a hand to his forehead. He felt cold.

Nina realized she had seen him like this once before: the time he had cried next to the body of Sheila Evans.

She turned off the flashlight, sat on the floor next to him, and whispered in the dark: "It’s not your fault."

"Yes it is," he insisted in a monotone voice. "I should have known better. I should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy. I should have spent more time watching and waiting. Or maybe…maybe I should have sent Stonewall’s men to get Danny. Why didn’t I do that? I wasn’t thinking!"

"Listen, the longer we would have waited the more chance it would have spotted us or that other hostiles would have stumbled on us. As for Stonewall, from what I heard his men couldn’t have done anything. They would have been killed, too. It was a tough call. That’s what leaders do. They make the tough calls."

His voice wavered, "Leader? The same leader that had us raid the airport and pull all of our manpower off the estate. That went great, too. This leader just sent a bunch of people he knew to something worse than dying."

He clenched his teeth. "I…could…hear him…on the radio…crying for help… begging for me to do something… anything!"

Nina searched for words.

"You have to make those decisions. You can’t possibly know everything that’s going to happen. I’m just saying that you can’t be angry at yourself because of this."