Brian Keene: Urban Gothic

“You’re a twisted bag of shit, aren’t you?” Javier shook his head in disgust.

“Here,” Scug said. “Have a go.”

He tossed Heather’s head at Javier. He flinched as it slammed into his chest, recoiling in horror and disbelief. The head thumped onto the floor and rolled away, leaving a wet stain. A part of him was disgusted, and he immediately felt ashamed for that reaction. How many times had they made love in his car or at her parents’ house or at his house when his mother wasn’t home? Or that one time backstage after the school play? She’d been so warm. Smelled so good. Felt so soft. Now the girl he loved had been reduced to this. Turning away from her, Javier glared at Scug. His hands curled into fists. His lips felt swollen and his ears and cheeks burned.

“Good,” Scug teased. “That’s good. Get all mad now. Think you can take me?”

“It’s just you and me, you sick fuck. Your little mutants aren’t here to help you.”

Scug wagged his index finger in the air and then whistled. The darkness came alive with rustling shadows. One by one, more of the freaks stumbled, slithered, and loped into sight, slowly surrounding Javier. Some carried flashlights and lanterns. Several more had weapons—everything from crude stone clubs to expensive cutlery. They circled him, snarling like a pack of dogs.

Scug grinned. “What’s that you were saying?”

“Pussy.” Javier tried to sound unafraid. “You scared to fight your own battles?”

“If I was going to eat you by myself, then yeah, you’d be my kill. But I think the rest of my family would like a piece of you. And besides, I don’t want to mess up my clothes.”

Smiling, Scug ran his hands over the tanned human hide he was wearing, as if smoothing out the wrinkles.

Adopting a ready stance, Javier studied his opponents. These were not the same as the others he’d seen. He could tell that immediately. They were malformed, yes, but they seemed more symmetrical, more balanced. More normal. One edged closer to him. It was sleek and muscular, with a broad jaw line and a wide mouth filled with teeth. The eyes were spaced too far apart and had no whites at all, but only the massive dark pupils.

“Sic him, boy,” Scug said. “And some of the rest of you get upstairs and help Noigel. Tell him I want her skin, so he’s not to fuck it up. It’s been a long night, and I’m getting tired.”

The thing with the dark eyes closed the gap. It did not growl as it came toward him. It roared, the sound of its voice blasting around the cellar as it charged. The rest of the creatures shouted in response.

Javier acted purely on instinct, and that simple reflex saved his life. He dropped back as the mutant attacked, and kicked the slavering thing in the stomach. It slammed into the wall and then shook off the blow, prepared to attack again. Before Javier could react, a second cannibal came for him. Sharp teeth ripped into his thigh, slicing through the heavy denim of his jeans and into the skin and muscle beneath with appalling ease. Javier jabbed his elbow down and struck the back of the monster’s head. It was like striking stone. His elbow thrummed from the impact.

A third creature attacked, even as the second gnawed his leg like a dog with a rawhide bone. Javier threw up his arm to block it, but thick fingernails cut into his forearm. The strike happened so fast that for a moment he thought it had missed. Then the deep gashes started to bleed. The pain followed a second later—hot and nauseating.

Javier dislodged the thing gnawing on his leg, bringing more agony as he did so. He backed up to give himself room and immediately realized his mistake. In stepping away from his attackers, he’d moved closer to the rest of the things.

They seized him as one. Powerful teeth clamped down on Javier’s shoulder. Claws lashed across his face, running lines of fire over his lips and nose, flaying his mouth open, cutting into his gums and fragmenting his teeth in one savage stroke. He managed to reach out with his fingers and return the favor, slashing across the deep set eyes of the beast. Javier bared his ruined teeth in a grimace as the fangs in his shoulder dug deeper, pressing together deep inside the meat of his arm and drawing a thick spray of blood. More teeth sank into his thigh, his waist, and his breast. Something cold and jagged and sharp pierced his buttocks. He tried to scream, but there was something wrong with his throat. Blood spilled into Javier’s eyes, blinding him. He shook his head from side to side in an effort to see.

His vision cleared in time to see a creature with a wide, hinged mouth lunge forward. He’d never seen so many teeth in a mouth before—multiple rows, all jagged and sharp. The thing snapped its massive jaws shut around his face. Javier jittered and thrashed as the mutant broke bones and pulped his jaw and forehead, carving a massive trench down the front of his skull.

He had time to think one last thought before he died.

Wait for me, Heather. I’m coming. I’m—

twenty-three

Leo and Perry reached the foyer and huddled together in front of the metal door, waiting for Dookie to return with help or for more of the house’s weird inhabitants to show up. Leo prayed for the former but was dreadfully certain it would be the latter. So when a door suddenly opened and a female figure stumbled out of the darkness, he leaped to his feet, ready to fight. Mr. Watkins sprang up beside him a second later, an unlit cigarette tumbling from his open mouth. Both men yelled in surprise and fright.

So did the girl.

They stared at each other. Leo frowned and blinked, trying to understand what he was seeing. She was dressed like one of the kids that had run away from him earlier in the evening, but she couldn’t be one of them. The girls in that group had all been white. This girl was red. Scarlet. She was covered in blood from head to toe. It matted her hair and crusted on her cheeks and stained her clothes, and although he could see some superficial wounds on her arms and face, Leo was fairly certain that most of the blood wasn’t hers. Leo shook his head slowly, and reached out a hand.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

The terrified girl jumped at the sound of his voice and shrank away from them, cowering against the wall. She whimpered, but did not speak.

“It’s okay,” Leo murmured. “We ain’t gonna hurt you. We’re stuck in here, just like you are.”

“Are you hurt?” Mr. Watkins asked her.

She stared at them, wide-eyed, but still refused to speak. Her chin trembled.

“Where are your friends?” Leo asked. “Them kids who ran in here with you? Are they okay? Do they need help?”

The girl flinched as if slapped. Then she opened her mouth and moaned. It was the most heartbreaking sound Leo had ever heard.

“Sssshhh,” he whispered. “Don’t do that, now. You’ll lead them right to us. We need to be quiet and shit.”

“Help is on the way,” Mr. Watkins explained. “Somebody went for help. They should be here any minute.”

As if in verification, they heard muffled voices from the other side of the door. It sounded like there was quite a large crowd outside. A moment later, Dookie yelled to them.

“Yo! Leo? Mr. Watkins? You alright?”

“Yeah,” Leo called as loudly as he dared. “We’re fine. Just get us the fuck out of here, dog. And hurry!”

“I got everybody out here. Angel and the crew and Mrs. Watkins and—”

“Dookie,” Mr. Watkins yelled, “I don’t care if you got all of Blackwater out there, along with a Navy SEAL team. Just get us the hell out of here. Now!”

“Get back from the door,” Dookie shouted. “Angel’s got a blowtorch!”

The men backed away. The girl hesitated, her eyes darting from them to the door and then back to them again. After a moment, she stepped toward them.