John O'Brien - Chaos

“That’s Jack, remember.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I give up,” I mutter and orient to the rear of the store.

Creeping past the register counter, I approach the bathroom door on the left switching my light between the area in back and the store interior. I give the handle a twist, push the door inward, and immediately flash the light inside expecting something or someone to be hiding there. It’s a standard store bathroom with a toilet, sink, and wall-mounted paper towel dispenser and no one seems to be using it at the moment.

From this position, I can see the far wall of the back room. The flashlight has a pretty intense beam so there is little radiant light splashing around the room; just a circle of light where the light shines. From this vantage point, I see the back door and part of the back wall with the room opening up on both sides. Shelves are filled with cardboard boxes, cans, and such with more on the floor next to them. My current angle prevents me from seeing the room entirely although I see the door of the cooler. With trepidation, I venture slowly up the small hallway leading to the back room. The light reflects off the cooler doors so I cannot see what is behind them. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the small line of light at the bottom of the back door darken momentarily as something flashes between me and the door.

“Oh shit!” I half breathe to myself.

“Get out! Get out now!” I yell bringing the light and my gun around as the sound of footsteps quickly heading my way explodes into my consciousness. My light seems to take forever to sweep around whereas, in truth, it is only milliseconds. A loud shriek pierces the once silent room and I see something large flying in the air toward me, caught in the light as my flashlight finally comes around.

I fire and shift to the right attempting to dodge the thing coming at me, the action coming instinctively. My round must have hit as I notice its trajectory alter in mid-air before slamming into my chest and left shoulder. The impact spins me around and drops me to my knees. It knocks the flashlight from my hand and I hear it hit the floor with a metallic thunk; thankfully not breaking and the light still shines. I feel like I have been hit by a truck and put my hand out to catch myself from falling completely over. I begin to rise and glance up only to be met with the sight of something large once again hurtling toward me; temporal distortion causes everything to appear as if in slow motion.

I make it to my knees but can’t get the gun up in time I do manage to bring my left arm up in front of me before the impact hits me square on; blanketing me. The impact is so hard that I become airborne momentarily before slamming down on my back and skid along the linoleum with this thing on top of me. Looking beyond my feet, I see Robert and Michelle silhouetted against the light from the front door.

“Get the fuck out of here!” I yell while attempting to twist out from under whatever it is on top of me.

The flashlight, somewhere on the floor, casts a pale light around revealing the outline of a human form on top straddling me. My left arm is being twisted and shaken violently around as this thing has taken hold of my forearm with its teeth. Shock must be preventing me from actually feeling its teeth ravage my arm let alone the damage it must be doing. A dank, musty odor assaults my nose; a mixture of body odor, wet dog, and breath that hasn’t been introduced to toothpaste in some time. The weight and violence of the tugging on my arm brings the now growling thing down close to my face.

I tilt my face slightly to the side and notice the flashlight has come to rest against the wall and facing it. With this feeble light helping me see, I raise my right hand with the gun and lock the muscles of my left arm. I need to slow down the twisting and shaking movements so I don’t actually shoot my own arm. I bring the gun closer, putting the barrel against the head of the snarling and growling thing and pull the trigger. The muffled gunshot is followed a millisecond later by a wet sound on the floor beside me. There is a second explosive-like sound and then the full weight of the thing settles on top of me. Something wet and warm trickles down the side of my face and neck. Gunpowder and burning hair are now mixed in with the musty body odor along with the iron-like smell of blood. There is another smell in the air. It is hard to describe but is associated with death. Not decomposition or anything like that, just the smell of death. If cold and nothingness had a smell, it would be similar.

I push against its shoulder, rolling it over and slide out from under it. Crawling to the flashlight, I shine it around, the light shaking slightly because of the adrenaline still coursing through my body. Breathing heavily, I check the back hallway and then focus the light ahead.

The body is lying on its back against a shelf, staring with bulging, lifeless eyes at the ceiling. The exit wound just above the right ear stares back at me. The once shoulder length, blond hair is matted with blood and gore on the side; a flap of skin and hair hangs down with blood leaking out, forming a slowly widening pool on the floor beside. A trickle of blood runs from the nostril and over the cheek. In the light, I see this was once a woman but the skin appears to be a pale, mottled gray with darker veins showing through the skin on the cheek as if the skin were translucent.

Continuing to pan my light, I see her right arm extends out from a red, flowered, short-sleeve blouse over tan slacks. Blood covers the shoulder of the blouse, causing it to stick to the skin. The first three fingers twitch spasmodically and I notice the same pale, mottled skin with dark veins running down her arm. I place my fingers on her wrist. No pulse. As I rise, my light shines on the shelf above her which is now covered with the spray of blood and chunks of bone, hair and brain. There is also a spray of white, foamy liquid mixed in and slowly running down part of the shelf. Curious. Raising my flashlight, I notice that a can of shaving cream has exploded, apparently being hit with the round or part of the round exiting her cranium.

I look back toward the front and see only the sun shining through the front door and windows. The door is still open and blocked by the concrete block. No sign of Robert or Michelle. Good . I’m afraid to check my arm as I don’t feel any pain or injury and flex my fingers while holding the flashlight. They appear to be working fine, however, with my arm having been twisted and gnawed like that, I should feel something wrong. I turn the light on me only to be both fairly amused and relieved.

That thing, I guess I can’t really call it a woman, had latched onto the roll of duct tape around my wrist. The tape itself has bite marks and is shredded in places. I am amazed and thank the spirits for their protection. I feel over the rest of my body, and, except for a sore shoulder where I was first hit and my hip where I hit the ground, I seem to be doing well.

I turn toward the back room and edge once more to the hallway, slipping on the now wet floor and edge into the back room against the cooler wall, exposing more and more of the room with my light. I am only greeted by more shelves and cardboard boxes on the ground. Inside the room is a nook with a desk and chair against the far wall of the opening to the right; a monitor and various sheets of paper littering the desk. I open the back door and notice yet another concrete block on the inside by the door. Blocking the door open, the light now penetrates most of the room. I walk to the cooler door and pull it open, ready. With the adrenaline fading, I now just want to get what we need and be gone.

Shining my light inside, I see cases of various items stacked against the rear walls. The cooler makes a right at the end. Grabbing a case of beer, I set it against the cooler door propping it open and head toward the corner with my light leading the way. Oh my god, there’s not going to be anymore beer!? A quick glance with my light reveals only more boxes so I head out of the cooler and walk out the back door.