He stares at the dried blood, splattered against the wall, his eyes slowly follow the trail left behind, up and down, along and around, following the curves of each letter, until he reaches the end. He swallows a dry, coarse mouthful of air, it tears at his throat like a ball of barbed wire, as it slides down, exploding into his lungs. Beads of sweat begins to seep from his forehead run down his face, he places a hand against his chest, feeling each powerful beat of his heart, lost in his own world, desperately, trying to find answers, to solve the riddle before him, a voice breaks the silence and pulls him into the world.
“Seventeenth victim in the last half an hour, three blocks apart, and not one son of a bitch saw anything, the security cameras don’t pick up anyone except the John entering and we’ve got nothing…. Are you even fucking listening to me Mackenzie?” A balding suited detective says to him, he slowly turns and nods.
“Keep going, what about the cameras?” He says softly.
He clears his throat before he continues, “Security camera’s are useless, there’s no footage to show anyone else entering the apartment.”
“That’s a shame, this was the only one with something going for it, the chance, for us to catch a break,” Mackenzie mutters.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look the best.”
“We’re face some crazed maniac, there’s nowhere else I should be but here.”
The door to the apartment crashes open and a large man burst into the room, “You gotta fucking help me! You gotta save me!” he screams.
“What the fuc….” He stops, his mouth drops open, they all turn, as it’s huge, clawed hands, grip the door frame, and it’s monstrous form, steps through, ripping, tearing, destroying the doorway, like a wrecking ball. It looks around the room, it’s eyes, it’s pools of nothingness, searches each of them, looking into their very soul, until, it comes to a rest on Mackenzie.
“This is my story, I will not be played, I create, you, obey,” it growls, in a low, gravely voice, flickering in and out of focus, like a poorly tuned radio.
“W-W-What?” Mackenzie says, the beast lunches forward, grabbing him by the throat and slams him against the wall. It’s stench wafts at him, tearing at his eyes, stinging, his nose runs, his face feels as if it’s been splashes with acid, it leans in closer, until, shots ring out as the other detective opens fire. The beast, it turns, throwing Mackenzie to the ground, it grabs the detective by his outstretched arms, crushing both his hands, and then rips them from their sockets, he screams, as blood pumps from his torn flesh, but the beast, it grabs his head and twists and he is silent. More shots tear into it’s side, the beast lets out a cry, a scream, a growl of aggression, dominance, power and moves through the room swiftly, until, only it stands, and the room, is bathed in blood. It turns back to find Mackenzie is gone, and looks towards you, as you read these lines, the sudden smell of rotting meat fills your nostrils, your stomach churns, the, you feel it’s breath on the back of your neck, followed by it’s words, “His distractions won’t stop me, for soon you will see, there’s nothing he can do, to stop me from getting to you!”
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All artwork by Yazgar, check his stuff out when you can!