Go For Stories

The taser probes sparked, lighting the darkness in small, confused flashes as they bounced off the inside of the lift doors and fell useless to the floor. As the final spark emitted from the failed shot, it lit the scene for one brief, horrifying snapshot that would burn into Nigel’s retinas. The image of the albinoid pinned in the entrance to the lift replayed after the darkness returned. It braced itself against the doors with its lower arms, pushing and stretching. Its upper arms reached out, one clawed hand flexing for Nigel’s throat and the other aimed at his face, no doubt happy with whichever part it tore from his head. For as long as the dark lasted, this would be the image in Nigel’s mind.

As the darkness deepened and time stretched, Nigel pressed himself further back into the lift. He heard the groaning sound of the albinoid’s elongating skin and imagined its progress towards freeing itself from the grip of the doors. It shrieked and grunted with the effort needed to reach its prey, to reach Nigel. He slid down the wall of the lift, hoping that whatever happened to him happened quick. He pictured Jacob’s skin being torn from his muscles and shuddered at the memory.

Within an instant two things happened: the shrieks of the albinoid cut off short, replaced with a keening squeal, more pain than rage, and the lift lit up with a shaky red glow. The doors were open and the albinoid lay on the ground, a writhing mess of gore where its lower legs once were. It writhed on the floor, screaming in pain and confusion. Nigel used the wall at his back to stand and watched the agonised thrashing of the large albinoid at his feet. Based on its location, it must have been a hair away from tearing his throat out of his neck and ending Nigel’s quest for freedom.

As the albinoid seemed in no great rush to expire, Nigel stuck to the wall and moved around it towards the exit. The long, red-lit hall beyond – though crumbling with menace – seemed sweet relief from another minute with this sorry monster. As he passed its struggling form, its head snapped in his direction. The creature’s pain forgotten, it dropped its jaw in another ear-piercing scream and flipped onto its belly, leaving a smear of dark purple blood underneath it.

Nigel ran.

Or rather, he tried to run. Whether it was the day’s activities or being in this realm yet again, he found he no longer had the energy for speed. His back tore where it had been punctured in multiple places and his legs burned as if full of molten lead. He pushed through the pain and managed barely more than a fast walk, but it was enough to get a head start on the legless albinoid.

He chanced a glance behind him and regretted it. The albinoid, no longer equipped for running, had dragged itself up to the wall and was using its sharp fingers on all four hands to drag itself along the hall, seeming to defy gravity in the process. It made better progress like this than dragging its sticky rear end along the floor and was closing the gap between them.

Nigel turned a corner, hobbled down a bit (dodging large amounts of rubble), then turned another. Each time, the creature followed suit and neared just that little bit more. The closer it got, the more obvious its size difference from the rest. Nigel came to realise who this one must have been mere hours ago. He was being pursued by the German that had attempted to stop him in the common area, thinking he was kidnapping poor Milly. Nigel felt a pang of regret at this realisation. It seemed that there was not safety in numbers and even those willing to fight for the innocence of others had fallen to these murderous white things.

He rounded another corner and discovered that he was completely and irretrievably lost. Casting his eye about the hall brought no clarity. Here, the decaying walls and brittle floors looked the same as any other area. He did note, however, that the decay was worse than his last visit here. Entire sections of floor were missing, opening out to an abyss of darkness below. The walls were pocked with spyholes and the ceiling dripped some ungodly fluid. Somewhere in the labyrinth of hallways the whistling of the floating eels sounded. Only this time it came to him in softer, more sporadic pulses. Nigel didn’t know the intelligence level of the toothy fish, but they at least seemed to know the end was upon them.

As it was on all of them, if Nigel couldn’t get away from the albinoid pursuing him. He pressed himself against a damp wall and sidled up to the corner he had rounded seconds before. Peering out from the cover, he could see the pale form scrambling towards him on the ceiling, snaking and looping around holes with its back end hanging and entrails dangling. It dripped a trail of purple blood beneath it, but seemed not to notice the pain anymore. The hunt was on.

Nigel turned away from his pursuer and headed down the hall, keeping his footfalls as light as possible. Even this simple action required a marathon effort from his tired muscles. His knees burned with each careful step and his lungs moaned at him in a series of short, raspy breaths. Knowing he would never get away from the German-albinoid at this pace, he slunk through a busted doorway.

One step in and he nearly fell into a van sized hole that yawned over a drop a hundred feet deep. A faint, flickering blue glow lit the fall beneath him. The pale, empty colour of the glow had a near hypnotic quality and his eyelids drooped, threatening sleep at the worst of times. Truth be told, he almost didn’t care. Death would be a sweet break from a shit of a week. His slumped shoulders rocked back and forth as his body swayed with the effort to remain on his feet. He leaned back against the wall beside the doorway and took a deep, deep breath. His legs gave up gently beneath him and he slid down the wall, ending in a squat.

His head nodded and his eyes followed suit.

He couldn’t say how long he was out. It could have been over an hour or half a heartbeat. Last time he was here, he was so afraid that he didn’t notice the passage of time. It had an odd quality to it. Some moments stretched on and others flashed by. Either way, it didn’t matter. He had drifted off when his friends needed him at his best. He shook his head and drew in a quick breath. Blinking hard and standing, he fought to reenergise himself.

Another drip of liquid on the top of his head reminded him of what had woken him in the first place. He reached up and touched the wet spot in his tangle of hair. He brought the hand back to reveal a thick wet spot on his palm. He narrowed his eyes and brought his hand closer. The dark patch had a definite hint of purple to it. His heart skipped and he tilted his head back to face the ruined ceiling above him.

At first he didn’t see the albinoid that held fast to the structure above him. Its pale head blended into the shadows and the blotchy off-white of the plastered ceiling. In a rare example of blind luck, it hadn’t seen him slumped against the wall either. It hung directly above him, turning its head one way then the other. The plaster of the ceiling cracked in the German’s grip and dropped sprinkles of wet powder to the floor and a dozen floors beneath. A long tendril of bloody sinew dredged the air an inch from Nigel’s face. The albinoid sniffed the air in sharp snorts.

Like you could smell anything in this cesspit, Nigel thought as he watched the creature spin on the spot, bringing the top of its head to within a hand of his face. It let out a short, taunting scream and Nigel felt the hot air of its breath run through his hair. He held his breath and waited, making silent deals with the devil for it not to see him so close.

It sniffed again and spun towards the door, disappointed in its findings here. It paused for one more second before heading out of the door. Nigel waited in silence. His head throbbed with the breath he had forgotten to let out and he exhaled. He took one step to the hall beyond the door …

… and the albinoid came flying back through, torn to shreds and spraying blood and goo in a gory arc.