Go For Stories

Nigel slid down the glass with his back to the creatures. He could hear their scraping claws and full body thrusts against the wall, but cared not. Right now, no matter how uncomfortable, anything was preferable to looking at their white, screaming faces. He shuddered, the thought alone of their sharp teeth shining through their wide jaws was enough to send a man mad.

Bec and Jacob took Anne over to a desk and swept the computer gear off the surface. With each of them under an arm, they lowered her down to the desk. She moaned in pain. Sweat beaded on her face and her movements were weak. Nigel was concerned she wouldn’t make it. Anne may not have been his closest ally in his job, but she had always been a fair worker and never complained. She had been there at the most horrible time of this terrifying uprising and made it through, surrounded by the bodies of her colleagues and friends. Now, she was so weak she couldn’t lift her own head. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

The scraping behind Nigel grew in intensity. He looked around. His entire field of vision was filled with white, gangly arms and wide, shredding grins. The creatures piled against the wall, scratching and beating at the glass, hoping for just a taste of their sweet, sweet meat. Teeth gnashed in his face, inches away, and fingers clawed at any gap they could find.

“You’re not getting in,” he said, “you pieces of shit.”

And they shouldn’t. The labs were designed for full quarantine. Nothing in, nothing out. The air was filtered through a long series of vents and ducts that would be impossible for the albinoids to find their way through. Nigel had better chances of making it out alive than the creatures had of finding their way in. He hoped.

He pushed himself off the floor and walked over to where Anne lay, her eyes closed. Milly stood over her, removing the fragments of shirt from her wounds. Anne winced in pain, but was too weakened to fight. The bleeding had slowed now, which could be either a good sign or a very bad one. Milly went to a drawer and pulled out the equipment necessary to stitch up the wounds.

“Anne,” said Nigel, as calm as he could muster. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Nigel Astley.” She showed the barest hint of a smile and her voice was almost too quiet to hear. “Hi.”

Nigel took Anne’s fumbling hand as Milly came over with a large needle. She slid it into the flesh just near the wound. Nigel leaned in.

“Milly’s just given you something for the pain, you’ll be alright.”

“What pain?” asked Anne.

Bec, who was leaning against a nearby desk, looked up and frowned at this. Jacob had made his way to a computer and tapped away at the keys, doing god-knows what.

“How you feeling?” asked Nigel.

Anne gave a dry chuckle. “I’m good. Feeling a little sleepy.”

“It’s been a big day.”

Anne smiled and closed her eyes. Her head lolled to the side and she took in a long, shallow breath, sucking the air through her teeth. Nigel held her hand and watched her. He wasn’t sure if she would make it. She had lost a lot of blood and, while Milly was a medical whiz, they didn’t have the resources at the moment to keep her going if she crashed.

“MURCHISON,” cried Anne, her eyes snapping open.

“What?” said Milly, jumping a little. Bec moved over and held an arm on Anne’s chest, stopping her from moving without too much force.

“Nigel,” Anne looked panicked, “I saw, on the footage, I saw Anthony. I saw him.”

Nigel patted her on the hand in his own. “I know. He’s here.” He had completely forgotten about that. After all the events of the past couple of days, it was getting hard to keep his mind on track. It would seem that Anne had been on the team that reviewed the footage for Doctor Peterson’s death.

“But why?” Anne was keeping herself alert, fighting her exhaustion. “He shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t a problem. He’s allowed, he’s allowed to be here, but … but why?”

“It’s just a visit,” said Nigel, not believing himself. He couldn’t afford to get her worked up over the mysterious appearance of their boss right before all of this started. “Checking up on us.”

She gave a half smile and her head started to drop again. “Bad timing.”

“Yeah,” Nigel chuckled, “for him.”

“No, no …” Her head nodded and her eyes closed. She took a few shallow breaths, the pain coming through in the harsh rasps. Her hand brushed against his and opened; an invitation. Nigel looked at Milly, who worked at stitching up the flesh, and he took Anne’s hand in his own. This opened her eyes and she looked at him through the fog of near-death, clutching weakly at him. “I meant … I meant bad ti-timing for us. B-bad timing for, for…”

She took another sharp breath, that went no further than her throat, and her lungs emptied in a long rattle. Her hand relaxed and her eyes stared at him without seeing.

Anne was dead.

Nigel caught Milly’s attention and she looked back, her expression was one of defeat. She placed the needle on the desk next to Anne and stepped back, sitting on the nearest chair and placing her head in her hands. Nigel ran his fingers down Anne’s eyes, closing the lids. She could rest now.

“What’s happening?” asked Bec. “What’s-”

She looked down at the body on the desk, pale and emaciated. The light glistened from tears that welled in her eyes. They fought to run down her face, but she kept them close, refusing to allow herself the emotion.

“Why is this happening to us?” she asked nobody in particular. “It doesn’t even make sense. Why?”

Nigel sniffed. His thoughts were on the boss: Murchison. “I’m going to find out. I promise you. I’ll find out.” He looked over to Jacob, who tapped away at the keyboard in front of him, unaware of what was going on in the very same room. “And I’m going to start with him.”

“What?” asked Bec.

Nigel stormed across the room towards Jacob. He wrapped one hand into his collar and dragged the man away from the computer. He spun him and pulled him in close. Face to face. Nowhere to hide.

“What,” Nigel growled in Jacob’s stricken face, “is going on here? Tell me what you know. I know you’re up to something. Tell me. Why don’t you seem too surprised by these things and what the BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO ON THESE COMPUTERS? TELL ME!”

He shook Jacob by the collar, watching his cheeks shake from the force as Milly and Bec rushed over. Bec inserted herself between the pair as Milly tugged on Nigel’s arm.

“STOP IT,” shouted Milly, tears streaking her face.

“Let him go, mate,” said Bec. “You’re acting crazy.”

He kept his grip on Jacob’s shirt, but stopped shaking him. “I’m not acting crazy. He’s up to something. I know it. What are you up to, Jacob? Why have you run everyone else out of that dungeon of yours? What have you been doing?”

Jacob placed a hand on each of Nigel’s wrists, curling his fingers around his arms. He didn’t squeeze, but his grip was decisive.

“I told you. I don’t like people. They get in the way.”

“So you killed us all? You released these beasts because you don’t like people.”

“What? No, I had nothing to do with those abominations. I just like to work alone.”

“So, what have you been doing on the computers, Jacob? What?”

“Buddy,” Jacob kept his voice calm, “I think you’re letting your emotions get the best of you.” He glanced over at Anne’s body. “I’m sorry you lost your friend, but I promise you, I was not responsible. I’ve just been tweaking the system so I can control the complex remotely.”

Nigel relaxed his grip, but kept his fingers wrapped in the cloth of Jacob’s collar. “What do you mean?”

“If you could just let me go, I can show you.”

Nigel looked at Bec. She nodded. He looked at Milly, who looked afraid and a little angry at him. He released Jacob, who let go of Nigel in return.

“Thank you, Mr Astley.” He crossed to the computer he was working on and hit a key. As he did, all the lights in the room shut down. A glow from the reactor that powered the place still cast pale shadows, but the room was steeped in darkness. Right across the compound, the lights had shut off. Jacob hit another key and the lights returned. “Now, you see, we have control.”

He gave a coy smile, no doubt trying not to look too proud of himself, but failing nonetheless.

“Fine,” said Nigel. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I,’ said Jacob with a nod, “I should have been more-” His mouth fell open and he pointed to something behind Nigel. “Isn’t she supposed to be dead?”

“What are you talking about?” Nigel spun around to see the focus of Jacob’s attention and a wave of chilling emotion ran over him.

Anne sat on the edge of the desk, facing them with an empty stare. Milly made to rush over, but something made Nigel stop her, something told him this wasn’t good. Anne’s head twitched and a rough gulping sound escaped her throat. She gulped again, curling over and falling from the desk, landing on her side. Her body jerked and spasmed as she coughed and gagged. She rolled to her knees and slammed her hands to the floor, gouging holes in the hard floor. Her fingers cracked from the force of the strike and bits of bone protruded from the skin, bringing blood with them. She retched and choked as she stood. Nigel moved back, herding the others away from her.

“Anne?” he asked.

She snapped towards the sound. Her eyes bulged in their sockets, but showed no recognition. The hair fell from her head, exposing her scalp. She choked and gagged. The sound grew harsher and more solid before she doubled over, holding her gut. She vomited. She vomited up the contents of her stomach, which landed with a splat on the floor. The room filled with the stench and the gurgling sound of the action. Nigel watched, transfixed in horror as her throat swelled with the effort. It doubled in size as she threw her head back and spasmed before opening her mouth wide and roared.

Something wet fell from her open jaw. Something dark, red and purple. It landed at her feet and pulsed, swelling and contracting. Beating. Her heart lay on the floor at her feet, yet still she stood. She screamed and tore at her clothes, shredding them with her broken, bloody fingers. She tore her body free of its confines, leaving her clothes scattered on the floor, tattered and useless.

As they watched, she reached her arms out wide, exposing her pale skin. Nigel wanted to look away. He wanted to protect the image of her in his memory, but he could not. He had to see. Her arms grew longer and her naked body stretched before them. Her arms split down the middle and her skin faded to a perfect white as blood ran from her body, seeping from the pores and flowing to the floor as if it was afraid to be a part of her. The lower half of her arms dangled and swelled, creaking and groaning. They split at the ends and formed new hands with new, sharp fingers.

At last, she stopped. She crouched low and looked around with horrible, yellow eyes. She was done, complete. She had become one of them. A monster.