With a wild roar Guy leaped, bowling the creature over. It squealed, eyes rolling fearfully in a boar-like face. Guy stabbed downward with his rife, sinking the bayonet deep into the creature’s stomach. It gurgled in agony.
Black blood pooled on the carpet.
Guy stood over the beast as its tusked, hideous faces quivered. Antenor joined him, also dressed as a WWII British officer. He carried a modified crossbow.
Guy made himself watch as the hideous creature died. “I would have caught it.”
“I know. But why make things harder? Dead is dead. This was the last one. The Aberration is over.”
“It’s becoming more difficult each time.” Guy tightened his fist. “I feel… weary, like a body behind on years of sleep.”
Antenor looked Guy in the eyes. “There are fewer of us now. Every time an Aberration unfolds, we lose a few more.”
The grisly creature sagged, black blood bubbling on its twisted lips. The men were silent for a moment before Guy spoke.
“What happens when all of us are killed?”
Antenor sighed.
“Best not to think about it. Remember, each time one of us dies, the others gain in strength. That is the only advantage, if there is such a thing. We may dwindle, but those remaining become that much more resilient. That much more harder to kill…”
“Uh… Guy?”
Guy whirled around, his eyes wild. Michael took a wary step back.
“Kinda… lost you there for a minute.” Guy continued to look around as if he didn’t know where he was. Michael suppressed a groan. Just what we need right now. The only person armed with guns loses his grip on reality.
Drake pushed his way forward. “If you’re not gonna look, at least move out the way. We can’t see anything.”
He peered outside.
“Shit.”
Outside the office window the Others were indistinct figures in the rain, but Michael didn’t need to get closer to know that they stared directly at them with their nonexistent eyes. He couldn’t be sure, but they seemed to shift suddenly. As if… awakening.
“Whole place is probably surrounded.”
“I can’t see anything,” Fran said. “Looks like people out there. I can’t tell if they have faces or not.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Guy said, suddenly focused again. “You know you can feel it.”
Again, he was right. Just looking at them made Michael want to cover his face; their presence prickled his skin like dirty syringes.
“We… we can’t go out, can we?” Drake said.
“No. I told you. This is our stronghold. We’re better off in here, at least until morning.”
Sweat beaded on Rob’s forehead. “There uh, there may not be a morning. I can’t take this. Not for a whole night. Not for another hour. They could already be inside. Something turned off the lights. Something killed Greg. You say it killed Reese too. So who’s going to be next? You?” He gave a wild, half-hysterical cackle. “Me? No. Look — they’re not even moving. I’m leaving when I have the chance.”
Guy’s face never wavered from staring at the Others. “Fine. Go. If you make it to your car, we’ll follow. If you don’t…”
Rob swallowed hard. “You’re… uh, you’re not… uh…”
“Coming with you? No. I don’t think we have a chance out there. But if anyone wants to leave with you… I won’t stop them. Free country.”
No one moved.
Rob swallowed again. “Will you at least lend me one of your…”
Guy shook his head. “I can’t. We’re going to need them. How would I get it back if you…?”
“Right.” Rob nodded vigorously. He looked like he just bathed in sweat.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Michael said. “Guy’s right — we need to stick together.”
“No! No… I uh, I need to go, you understand? I need to go.”
Guy’s gaze stayed on the Others outside. “Your choice.”
Rob nodded. “Ok. Uh, all right…”
He placed his hand on the door handle.
They stepped back in unison. Guy raised the shotgun.
Rob opened the door. Even his hair glistened as he paused to remove his fogged eyeglasses. “Well, uh…”
Guy shoved him through and quickly shut the door.
“What the hell?” Michael said. “Guy, what…?”
“Guy!” Rob pounded the glass. “Guy!”
“You have the door code, Rob. You can enter anytime you want. But if you open the outer door, you’re on your own. We can’t take the risk.”
Rob took a shuddering breath. He looked at the office window, then back at them. His face firmed, and for the first time he appeared calm and composed. He placed the glasses back on his face.
“I’m leaving. You all can go to hell.”
He strode to the exit door. For a long moment he waited, watching the silent and still forms in the fog. He pushed down on the handle and cautiously slid the door open, just a crack. Streams of water drizzled in, gently spattering him.
He eased the door slightly wider.
The force of being snatched was so violent that his shoes hung in the air after his body was yanked through. To Michael they seemed to drift like newborn snowflakes as Rob’s screams drenched the air, each one more bloodcurdling than the last. Wet sounds accompanied the screams; shrieks that seemed to go on forever, on and on until Michael covered his ears while Fran sobbed into his chest. Drake screamed as well, howls of madness that mingled in concert with Rob’s death shrieks.
Rob’s shoes hit the ground. Michael realized that only seconds had passed.
When the screams ended, the silence was almost deafening; a sudden rush of stillness that crashed down like shattering glass. Guy was the first to look through the narrow door window. His eyes bulged and his mouth went completely slack.
“My God…”
Michael didn’t want to look; yet some perverse impulse gripped his neck muscles and forced him to turn and see what macabre scene would give Guy pause.
The Others had pressed against the office window, streaking it crimson with blood-painted fingers. Again they made not a sound, but this time their appearance was distinctly different.
One and all, they all bore the same face. It was almost unrecognizable, but it was Rob, his face hideously distorted by a caricature of his never-ending scream…
Transmogrifying Trepidation
Guy stood frozen as the Others slithered through the open office door dripping wet, silent as the rain that accompanied them; gliding marionettes on lax strings. The floor flooded with streams of crimson water.
Their ordinary attire only belied their silently screaming faces as they pressed in numbers so thick the office was quickly smothered; it darkened so virtually nothing was visible in the door’s thin window except those pale, awful shrieking faces that plastered against it.
“They… they killed Rob.” Michael’s train of thought had long since left the station. He stared shell-shocked at the Others crammed against the door.
Drake panted like an overheated dog. “We have to… get out of here! They’re gonna… get inside and kill… all of us!”
Guy continued to stare at the frozen, twisted faces that peered through the window. As one, the swimming eyes turned downward.
At the door’s keypad.