The High

Reflected by my light, at the end of the dark, still hallway, are a pair of face-height eyes.

My body moves before my mind can think. My feet stumble backwards into the bedroom as my hand claws for the door. It slams shut with an echoing boom, rattling in its frame. My fingers fumble for the lock, slipping and shaking before finally, it clicks into place

I stagger back, shotgun raised, breath tearing out in ragged gasps. White knuckles clutching the grips of my gun. Any second now, it's gonna start tearing down the door.

...

But nothing happens.

No sound comes, I stand still, back pressed against the far wall.

My breathing echoes through the room, every heave feels far too loud. I can hear again.

Sweat slicks my hands, my heart slams against my ribs. My mind tries to think, but my head won't work. Won't stop repeating: "I'm dead, I'm going to die here".

My breathing speeds up, fingers loosen, then clutch even tighter. The more I try to slow my shallow breathing the worse it seems to get.

My vision blurs at the edges as I stare at the door. A wooden door. My last defense. Christ.

My body shakes and tingles as adrenaline courses through me, I'm losing control of my hands.

I wait, hands trembling, breath shallow. Each second drags.

The silence presses into me.

But still, nothing? 

No footsteps. No banging. Not a thing.

Did I... imagine it?

I stand frozen, straining my ears as I listen for the faintest sound. My body waits in anticipation for something, anything, but it never comes.

It was real. I saw it. I know I did.

or did I?

"A stress-induced hallucination? No, I saw it. I think I saw it. It's so dark out there.

All I saw were eyes.

...

Maybe it was nothing.

After a second more hesitation, I place a cautious foot forward.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh Christ

My stomach plummets. My chest tightens. My breath catches in my throat.

I jerk back so hard I nearly drop my shotgun.

What comes next is worse.

"Hello?" 

I completely freeze, eyes wide. I don't dare breathe.

Its tone is monotone, the phrase completely flat, its voice lacking any clear accent.

It's not human. 

And aberrations shouldn't be able to talk.

Slowly, steadily, I raise my gun.

My heart thumps, my shaking stills. I hardly blink, I can't look away from the door.

The voice returns, flat and hollow.

"Hello?"

The doorknob begins to turn

just once at first, a slow turn, and a slow twist back. 

Then it's faster, down and up, It pushes lightly against the door.

Then it's fanatic. The door is slammed back and forth, shaking in its frame as the thing on the other side rattles the doorknob over and over and over and over and over.

The door won't hold.

Time to act, Marc.

I grit my teeth, and aim my gun.

My finger hovers over the trigger, eyes flicker to my readied gun. My hands begin to shake. 

"FUCK YOU!"

Eyes squeeze shut as I jerk the trigger back, Just one blast has my ears ringing all over again. The gun whacks into my shoulder, buckshot ripping through wood, then flesh.

screaming

Primal screaming.

That was a bad move.

The thing screams and screams, like a trapped animal, a piercing roar that fills the whole house.

That was a very bad move.

I feel it before I hear it, vibrations beneath my feet, scampering and clawing, making their way to me.

I don't wait. scrambling around the room for something heavy to shove against the door. I find it quickly, a heavy cupboard, throwing my shotgun to the side as I heave and push it into place.

"I should have kept quiet, what the hell have I done?"

Even through the ringing I can hear It now, dozens of legs and arms, scampering up the stairs. 

With one final heave the cupboard slides into place, and I scamper back to where I threw my shotgun, taking a knee as I aim for the door. 

Heavy breaths, in and out, eyes locked on the door.

My hand reaches for my shell pouch as I try replace the shot I took.

4 shots left.

My eyes go wide as I feel around, hoping the rest are just tucked away somewhere else, but that's it, I have 5 shells left, five.

My nerves begin to waver.

I'm dead if I stay here

I'm dead if I don't.

My mind races through everything. Every thought and experience and fear and memory and struggle, all in a desperate attempt for something that might let me live. 

My chest heaves, sweat rolls down my face, my palms clam up. My hands shake wildly, there's a knot in my stomach. Its still screaming. I'm scared.

It comes to me.

My hail Mary.

With shaking hands, I reach into the left pocket of my rough cargo pants.

Never thought I'd use this, surprised I kept it in the first place.

Found by the dead body of a man, months ago.

A plastic packet of salvation.

I hold it up to the light as I pull it from my pocket, letting out a dry chuckle as it comes into view.

In my hands is a packet of crystal meth.

In my moment of delight, all other sounds seem to tune out for just a moment too long

BANG BANG BANG BANG

The noise sends a jolt through my whole body, snapping my focus, they're at the door.

Newfound resolve forces me to my feet and towards the boarded window.

The banging continues, the door creaking and shifting and cracking under the weight of my hunters. My panicked brain calms just enough to form a plan.

Pull off the boards, snort the meth, run like hell.

I don't think any further, I'm short on time as is. I throw my shotgun to the side, slide my knife from its sheath, and begin to hack and pull at the barricaded window.

Splinters of wood fly with each blow and twist of the knife as I pry and pull the plyboard away.

A hinge of the door breaks loose.

I clamp my hands around the second board, splinters digging into my fingers, pulling with adrenaline-fueled might till it comes shooting off.

The cupboard slides an inch, wood screeching under weight.

Each crack and pop has my head swinging backward in a frenzy, wondering how many pops I have left before the door flies open.

I slam my knife down into the third board. Wood splits with a dry snap, curling inwards as my blow follows through. Jagged edges of course wood slice into my hand, stinging pain shoots up my arm, a wave of heat flows through my body.

I wiggle my hand free, wincing from the pain, before grabbing the broken, now bloody ends and pulling them off.

All that's left is a stapled-on cloth blind, I raise my knife to cut it, but hesitate.

Once I cut through this, I'll be out at night.

For months, this has been a death sentence.

My hand wavers, my teeth grit, hesitant eyes stare down the thin cloth.

Wood cracks and splinters from behind, something pops off, landing with a dull thud behind me.

I breathe out slow.

"Not much choice"

I slice open the blind, and with my free hand, rip it off.

My eyes flinch closed, my heart hammers in my chest, I hold my breath for just a moment.

With a gulp, I look out the window, into the night.

There's nothing.

Inky black, my flashlight revealing no more.

It's awful.

Staring out into it makes my heart sink, I don't like it, I'm not supposed to see this.

a sense of dread surrounds it, I don't want to look any more.

I feel like I'm watched, like every second I can be seen I am in danger.

KCCRACK BANG KKRRUNCH SNAP

I'm ripped from my trance, whipping my head around, wood splinters, then cracks, then breaks.

A long, malformed hand is swinging wildly from behind the cupboard.

Shit!

I bolt for my gun while my hand shoots for the packet, my fingers fumble with the ziplocked plastic before it finally pops open.

My heart pounds in my chest, my hands shake like never before, sweat rolls down my face. 

"how much of this should I take?"

I pour half the small baggie into the palm of my hand, hesitating.

For half a second.

KKKRRAAASHHHHH

out of time.

...

sniiifffffffff.

something moves behind me.

I lunge for the window handle, shove it open, and throw myself into the dark.

Then the meth kicks in.

"WHHHOOOOOOOooooOOOOoOoOoooooOOOOOOOOO BABAY"

I land with a crash, something twists, maybe pops, maybe breaks, yeowch. Don't care, cant feel a thing.

I hop up, and I run.

Ho boy. Do I run.

With impossible stamina, I launch into a sprint, shotgun swinging in my grip as I tear away from the house.

I feel GREAT! No fear. No pain. Just me and the wind. 

Oooh yeah, supposed to narrate. Alllrighhht. Okay. Cool. Uhhhhh.

They're still screaming

weird

Uhhh no light, like none at all. also weird

but i dont reallly care

just gotta keeep running

so i do

runningrunningrunningrunningrunningrunning

My legs? perfect, they dont even hurt. My arms? loooosee, tingling

My heart? LOOUD, FASST, THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

wHO Cares? I feel amazing

I reach the fence, vaulting over the short white picket as I head toward the murky treeline.

feet dig into dirt as I push myself through brush and branch, legs catching on bushes, twigs slapping into my face.

My surroundings are blurry, messy. My already dim flashlight hardly cuts through the unnatural dark, meaning I can't see whats ahead, or behind, or to the sides.

All I can do is run.

...

I run, and I run, and I run.

Fuzzy shapes surround me, I'm not even sure if they're trees.

A second goes, then turns back in on itself

All I can hear is my thumping heart.

...

Is that my heart?

...

It must be.

The space around me begins to open up, I realize I haven't hit anything in a while.

details seem to fade, all that's beneath me is grass, I can't even tell if I'm moving now.

I stare up, and nothing stares back.

I stare ahead, and something stares back.

Fuzzy, moving, out of place.

I feel I should fear it.

A thousand voices pierce my mind

"Regain yourself" 

A wheeze tears from my throat, I feel my ragged lungs burn.

I freeze, then stumble, then fall.

CRACK. A branch slams into my face, I feel it scratch me.

Trees fly past me as I come crashing to the ground.

I roll and tumble, something digs into my ribs, I feel a faint crack.

I cough and heave, lying flat on the uneven, mossy floor.

"What the hell was that?" 

My clothes are ruined, my body a patchwork of cuts.

how long was I out?

My mind reels, everything tingles and pops.

yep, still high.

I groan, gripping the ground as I try to recover.

Silence, for just a second.

snap

My head jerks towards the sound.

Eyes reflect in the dark.

One pair.

Two pairs.

Four pairs.

Eight pairs.

I stop counting.

RUN MARCUS 

My feet hit the ground with speed I shouldn't have, they move as I do, I can hear them behind me.

Thudding, crashing, snapping.

Dozens of bodies pursue me.

Branches lash at my face, whip my legs, tear my clothes.

I don't stop.

My chest heaves, my lungs feel ragged, every breath rasps. I can almost feel my muscles burn.

My legs don't care. Meth and adrenaline keeps them moving

dontstopdontstopdontstop

Something scampers at the edge of my vision, I take up my gun, not daring to slow down.

An opening in the trees brings part of it into view.

malformed legs jerk towards me. Thin, unmoving arms drag across the ground, much too big for its own body. Its proportions are all wrong, everything is far too long.

Its jaw hangs loose, twitching as it dangles,

Its entire body is black, blending into the night, I swear its shining eyes stare into mine.

Its large arms begin to raise in sync, reaching for me.

KABANG.

The forest is lit with fire, the unaimed gun nearly flies out my hands as nerves squeeze the trigger back.

Its scream pierces the air as a part of it is blown off, maybe its arm? it falls behind, I don't look back.

I just keep running.

...

I can hear them behind me, beside me, I swear every time I look up I catch another glinting set of eyes. My gaze darts from side to side, I barely blink, stars begin to dance around my peripheral. 

I think there's something stuck in me, Im scraped all over, the blow when I fell made my nose bleed hard, all I can taste is iron. I cant feel my feet.

Between my thumping heart and ringing ears, I can barely hear at all.

the only sense left to me is sight.

And even that's beginning to fail.

I don't know how much time has passed, I don't know how long I've ran, I don't know how much longer I can keep running.

I'm so scared, I've never been more scared in my life, I want to cry, I want to lie down, I want to go home.

But I don't, I can't.

Because I've always been good at running, haven't I?

Another flicker of things I want to forget.

I slow for just a second.

Over the pounding of my heart and the ringing of my ears, I can hear a faint snarling.

My body skips around, this one's too close to ignore.

Its all a messy blur, the shape of a wolf is right behind me, snarling and gnashing out of a rotting jaw. I have barely a second to aim the gun before reflexes squeeze the trigger shut.

I flinch, I brace.

Not even a click, in my mania, I forgot to reload.

NO!

In a fumbling panic I hurl my gun at the thing, the wooden stock bounces off its rotting face, taking some flesh with it.

It reaches me.

A jittering, aberrated wolf lunges. its fur is disgusting, matted and bloody. Its face is rotting, a bony, incomplete second jaw protrudes from the side of its head, hanging open limply. Froth surrounds decaying teeth and black gums, and it's going for my throat.

CHOMMP

My left arm jerks up on instinct, and its broken teeth clamp down on my forearm.

Blinding, searing pain.

The thing drives me down.

I hit the ground, hard, wheezing as air slams from my lungs.

It thrashes. Shakes. My arm twists in its mouth. Bone grinds

I claw. I shove. I shout. I scream.

K-KRRA

I tear my knife from my sheath. I swing wild, the blade clangs off bone, its second jaw.

The thing doesn't care.

KKRAACCKKKK

I stab again, and again, and again.

Squelch. snap. shlick.

The knife tears through muscle, grinds against bone, shreds through sinew.

SSSNAP

SQUELCH

The thing goes stiff. My vision goes black.

Panting. blood. pressure. pain.

It hurts so much.

I gasp and heave, spitting, choking. My heads spinning.

I look up.

eyes.

faces.

legs

I pry its rigid jaw from my arm.

Stagger, stumble.

I... I need to run.

I can't think anymore, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm hurt, I'm scared.

I can't think anymore.

I'm slower now, sprinting turns to jogging, I can hear bodies closing in. 

Closer now.

Closer now.

Closer now.

No where to run, nothing but the same endless trees under a night that just wont end.

And if on cue, something happens to the ground.

It begins to open up.

My eyes go wide.

Instinct slams me to a stop. I stumble, arms flailing, feet scrambling for solid ground.

But there's nothing.

With a sickening weightlessness, I begin to fall.

into the dark.

Im barely falling a second before my body hits something solid.

WHACKK

A tree branch slams into my ribs, folding me in half

I plummet, the world spins.

CKCRACKK

Another branch snaps, it falls with me.

WHHAP

I slam into mossy ground, covered in pine needles, and at a steep incline. the branch sticks into me, I'm not sure where.

I begin to tumble, spinning and bouncing before I whack against a rock, catching a second of airtime before I come smashing to the ground.

HAAAH... HAAAAHHH

Somethings in my ribs, I can't breathe, every attempt is a desperate, ragged wheeze.

My lungs are ruined. My ribs are broken. my left arm is snapped.

KHOUGH CAHH

I cough up blood, the world is spinning, I'm seeing triple.

My visions going black, parts of my body are numb, my ears are ringing, I feel sick.

BLUEALCH

bile trickles out my mouth, I can taste iron from it.

Every part of my body is in searing, blinding pain.

I gotta... gotta... move...

my hands claw and scrape at the ground, my head spins, I barely have the strength to push myself up.

My legs wobble and shake as I try push myself to my feet, I crash back down to the floor.

Shapes and colours in my vision, my head lolls to the side, I could pass out from the pain.

I pant. I heave.

My lungs stutter, spasm.

I claw with one arm, I cant move my other one. I push myself to one, shaky knee, then the next. 

My flashlights almost broken, sputtering and flashing small bursts of light.

My legs wobble uncontrollably, my body sways from side to side. My mouth hangs open, bile and blood dripping down my chin.

I take a shaky step forward, and fall to the side, crashing into a tree. Another burst of pain. I push myself back up, and take another step.

Step...

Step...

Step...

like a shambling corpse.

...

I walk forward, hardly conscious.

I blink, and I'm somewhere else.

still walking.

I blink, and the trees have changed, ground is different.

still walking.

Im not sure what I see, I'm not sure what I hear, I'm not sure what I do.

Step...

Step...

Step...

At some point, I blink, and when I open my eyes, the faintest light shines through the trees.

I keep walking.

At some point, the meth clears from my system, and I regain the ability to think.

It's morning now.

and I'm still alive.

pft... ha...haha

hahahaaha..

I can't believe it.

"I survived the night... to die of dehydration... ha...haha...ha..."

Its not that funny, really.

I fall to my knees, and begin to cry.

Nothing loud, I haven't the energy, the tears simply fall from my eyes.

A faint tingle, my instincts final warning.

I drag my head upward, eyes half closed.

That... thing from my dreams is there.

Standing before me.

I droop my head, guess I've gone crazy, too.

But its presence is nice, I might not go alone, real or fake as it is.

I muster the last of my strength to ask it one question.

"can I... may I... rest... now?"

I sit, heaving, eyes flickering, silent tears flowing down my cheeks.

Shifting. Piercing. 

however many voices and however many tongues.

"You may". 

With one final heave, I allow myself to collapse, crumpling onto the cold dirt floor, I'm too tired to move, too tired to think.

I'm done.

As I drift off to my final rest, the shifting returns.

Its words thunder through me.

A low hum vibrates in my skull.

"Things shall only get worse from here"

My body begins to shut down.

I hear one last thing before I pass out.

A crack. A snap. Footsteps, speech.

"....hat.....body......"

"...et...over.....here...."

black.