The paltry remains of the Dunson family were little more than vaguely human patterns of gumbo oozing across the floor. The family was stripped of not just their clothes but also of their skin, with their remaining meat and bone pulverized into chunky mounds. The ones responsible plotted as what was once the Dunsons seeped into the floorboards.
In the adjoining room, a trio of tall figures in ill-fitting clothes gazed out a window. Their reflectionless eyes surveyed the surrounding woodlands before resting on a distant houselight. Further beyond that house, deep into the horizon, more lights fluttered. The shadowy figures acknowledged one another with broad, yellow smiles.
Far from the leering gaze of dangerous strangers was the college town of Nothrope. Like many college towns, it maintained an uneasy truce between the lifers and the unending flux of students. Half the area consisted of meticulously maintained century-old buildings with gabled roofs and wrought iron fences wreathed in ivy. The constant flow of students ground down the other half’s once majestic buildings. They were now just brambles of apartments, one stuffed on top of another, connected by endless rickety fire escapes, smokey corridors, and crumbling alleyways. It was one of these apartments that Jenna and her boyfriend, Miquel, called home.
The apartment would have been OK for a single occupant, but its rent required two. Within the claustrophobic space of yellowed curtains and chipping paint, Jenna, Miquel, and all their stuff constantly competed for space. Jenna had tried to make the place as cozy as possible, digging out quiet little nooks from the debris surrounding her. House plants diluted the stale air, and storage containers organized clutter into more manageable cubes of clutter, all in an attempt to bring about order. It never lasted long, as Miquel was chaos on legs, his every movement knocking things back into disarray.
Jenna fidgeted on the couch, trying to read the same paragraph in her textbook for the third time. Tye was fifteen minutes late; try as she might, she couldn’t put that fact to rest. Grunting, she tossed the dog-eared book over a knitted bag resting by the sofa.
Miquel plopped beside her with enough momentum that his lima bean frame made her airborne. Saddling up next to Jenna, he rested his head on her shoulder, bringing his brown-eyed puppy dog stare into play.
“Come on, Jen. You’ve earned a break from studying. Tonight’s about fun and getting away from the apartment,” he emphasized his point by kicking over a small pile of books resting by their third-hand coffee table. “You and me under a blanket by a roaring fire, breathing fresh country air. We’ll get our drink on and fall asleep under the stars. Tonight’s gonna be perfect.”
“I know.” She said as she restacked the books by her side of the couch. “It's just that it's a long drive, and now we’re running late, thanks to Tye.”
Pulling his phone out, Miquel made a show of texting his tardy friend. Immediately after hitting send, there was a knock at the door.
“Bonfire party, here we come!” Miquel pole vaulted off the sofa, toppling a random pile of stuff.
Throwing open the door revealed a disheveled figure with his face buried in a phone. Jenna’s nose twitched as the skunky smell of cheap weed drifted into the apartment. Tye looked up at Miquel and smiled apologetically.
“I just got your text. Sorry. My cat puked up a hairball right as I was leaving. Had to get it before it set. Miquel, what's up my brother?”
The two young men engaged in an elaborate handshake that ended in a hug.
“Oh, hey, Jenna. Didn’t see you back there. I was just telling Miquel I’m late ‘cause my cat puked.”
“Hey, Tye. Cats, right?”
His momentary obligation to acknowledge her existence over, Tye engaged Miquel about some new video game he’d recently become infatuated with. Miquel was nearly sucked into the conversation before Jenna caught his eye.
“We can talk about it in the car. There’s a party that ain’t starting till the star players show!” Miquel said, leading Tye out of the apartment.
The two friends loaded up Tye’s car, their conversation drifting into the background as Jenna stared at the keys in her hand. After a brief pause, she locked the apartment’s door and headed to the waiting vehicle.
The back seat of Tye’s car was spacious enough for Jenna once she pushed all the soda cans and other assorted junk to the floor. Curled up with her knitted bag acting as a pillow, Jenna was lulled into a deep slumber by the rhythmic motion of the vehicle and Tye and Miquel’s endless pop culture conversations.
Vocabulary words like mitochondria and flagellates invaded her dreams. They took on cartoonish forms, chasing her through the ever-shifting contents of her psyche. Dream logic ensured her pursuers were always one step behind, no matter how fast she ran. Then, new words could be heard coming to her rescue, words from outside the realm of sleep—words like lost and no signal.
“What’s up guys? Are we lost?” Jenna rubbed the grime from her eyes, not wanting to know what in Tye’s car had contributed to its formation.
“No. Don’t worry Jen. We just lost phone service, so no GPS. Once we find a hotspot, we’ll be golden,” said Miquel.
“So, how long have we been out of service?”
Tye and Miquel turned to one another. After a pregnant pause, Miquel decided he’d be the one to fall on the sword.
“About two hours?”
Jenna slowly exhaled. “Tye. Do you have a road map?”
“Like the paper kind? Do they still make them?”
Her fingers worked into her bag, the fibers catching on the edges of her nails. “Okay, let's find a safe place to pull over, and we can figure something out.”
A few miles down the road, they found an area of flattened grasses used as a staging ground by the local fishermen. There, amid discarded styrofoam tubs of nightcrawler and beer cans, the three huddled around the car’s headlights as lace-winged insects floated like falling snow in the cool night air.
“I’ve been to this place, like a year ago?” Tye said. “If we just keep going straight, I’m pretty sure I’ll see something I remember.”
“Okay, that’s something!” Miquel chirped.
“But there is another problem.”
“What?” Jenna said, her fingers tightening around the bag.
“I’m almost outa gas. I was going to fill up before coming over, but then Oliver puked all over my bathroom rug.”
“If you think we’re headed in the right direction, let's just keep going. You drive, I’ll keep checking the phone. If we find a house that doesn’t look like cannibals own it, we can ask for help, maybe buy some gas.” Miquel said.
Jenna shivered as she silently got back into the car. Miquel followed her and buckled up before sliding his hand back towards her. She lightly grasped it as Tye fired up his rusty steed.
For miles, nothing was seen except for trees and the blinking light of the low gas symbol. Then, a decrepit house became visible, little more than a sad shadow standing vigil on the horizon. No lights shone, so they moved on. As they continued, houses became more frequent and less foreboding.
Just as the car’s engine bucked in protest of its lack of fuel, Snoopy came to the rescue. A brightly painted mailbox shaped like a dog house was before them. The loveable cartoon character reclined on the roof while envelopes overflowed from the dog house door.
Miquel pointed at the mailbox. “Anyone who likes Snoopy has got to be okay.”
Leaving the car next to the over-stuffed receptacle, the three made their way up the twisting driveway. At its end, they were surprised to find a modern, well-kept home. The lawn was meticulously manicured, and a fresh coat of paint adorned the house. All the curtains were drawn, but the blue glow of a television was visible through one window.
Tye approached the front door while Jenna anchored Miquel next to her with her arm. The door was a thick slab of laminated oak adorned with a blocky brass doorknocker. It was also open, leaving a flimsy screen door as the sole sentinel guarding the entrance.
“Hello? Anyone home? This is super awkward, but I’d love to buy a few gallons of gas and maybe get some directions.” Tye called out while tapping on the screen.
“Come. In.” The voice sounded muffled as if the speaker had a mouth full of food.
Tye took the lead as the three pushed past the squeaky screen door into the house’s foyer. The floor was made of terra cotta tiles, and an assortment of shoes rested neatly on a shaggy welcome mat. Family pictures hung from the walls, painting a picture of domestic bliss: a dad with gray creeping up his hairline, a mom who looked like the prototype for all PTA members to come, and a son clearly uncomfortable in his best Sunday outfit.
Once again, the voice beckoned. “Come.”
A kitchen stood between the group and the voice of their potential savior. It was spacious, filled with utensils and appliances that would make a professional chef envious. No lights were on, the only illumination being the flickering blue light of a TV in the adjacent room.
Unlike the tidy foyer before it, the kitchen was a mess. Cabinet doors were open, with some hanging off of broken hinges. Open food containers rested in their remnants after being tossed aside. A toppled knife block spread its wares across the kitchen’s marble island, while a shattered jam jar made a Rorschach pattern on the floor.
Tye removed his knit cap and twisted it in his hands. Jenna had never seen him without it on, and now, seeing his matted and greasy hair understood why. He leaned out of the kitchen’s archway, craning his neck to see into the next room.
“Hey, like I really feel bad about this, but we could use some gas. We got money.”
Tye looked back at his companions while waiting for a response. Jenna and Miguel stared back blankly. Once again, a mumbling voice called out.
“Come. Food. Beer. TV.”
The voice struggled to spit out the words, making Jenna wonder if the speaker had a medical condition or was simply talking with a mouth full of food. Either scenario made her uncomfortable as she cautiously watched Tye.
Tye stepped down into the living room, its sunken floor giving it a cavernous feel. A state-of-the-art TV dominated a wall, painting the room in electric shades of flickering blue. Facing the TV was a plush leather sofa upon which three silhouetted figures splayed. Between them and the TV, a glass coffee table overflowed with food and drink.
One figure, the dutiful mother, motioned to Tye and waved her hand over the cluttered coffee table like a game show host displaying potential prizes.
“Come. Food.”
The motion of her arm caught Jenna’s attention. Her skin seemed odd, like moist clay hanging from an armature. Perhaps there was a medical issue at play. Rapid weight loss from an obese person? Jenna thought of the pictures in the foyer and how everyone in them was thin.
Miquel had his own ideas about the situation, based on all the smashed beer cans and drained wine bottles competing for space among the kitchen’s clutter.
“They’re plastered!” He whispered to Jenna as they watched Tye from the safety of the kitchen.
Kicking rubbish out of his path, Tye positioned himself between the seated figures and the TV, his eyes straining against its strobing light.
“So, like I was saying, we’re kinda in a jam here. I got a couple of twenties if we could just—”
Tye’s voice faded as his vision adjusted to the light. He first noticed the emptiness of their eyes, cold and dead like a shark’s. The trio leaned in closer so those pools of nothingness could better see Tye, allowing him to do the same.
The family all had saggy skin, but in a way Tye had never seen before. It drooped in certain areas, and in others, it bristled like something pushed from underneath. It was most noticeable in their faces, which looked like ill-fitting Halloween masks. Then, he saw the eyes behind the eyes and the mouths behind the mouths.
The family stood in unison. Their motions were unnatural and accompanied by the sounds of popping joints and cracking bones as if their skeletons were decompressing after a long confinement. Back in the kitchen, Jenna and Miguel watched as Tye froze in place.
With one final ratchet of their backs, the mysterious figures stretched taller than their skin was designed for, causing it to stretch tight across their bodies as they loomed over Tye.
“Come. Food.”
Gripping the sides of their mouths, they stretched them to the width of their shoulders and peeled off their flesh like someone sloughing off a nightgown. Paralyzed by fear, Tye stood surrounded by monsters.
They had simian bodies with lanky limbs and muscles as solid as pressure-treated lumber. Thick, shaggy hair covered them, including their heads, which stretched beyond human proportions. Their overwide mouths were filled with yellowed triangular teeth, their toes and fingers capped in curved black claws.
All sensibilities drained from Jenna. Once the creatures revealed themselves, everything else in the world dissolved except her and them. Then she did the only thing her mind would allow her: flee. So focused on this singular task, Jenna hadn’t even realized she left Miquel behind, nor did she hear the breaking of bones and screams of pain coming from Tye.
Jenna had made it halfway down the winding driveway before the thought of Miquel brought her back to her senses. Daring a split second to turn her head back to the house, she was relieved to see Miquel exit the front door. Tye’s screams caught his attention, and Miquel paused in a moment of moral quandary.
Tears flowed down Jenna’s cheeks while she tried to yell run, but fear constricted her vocal cords, allowing only a croak to come out. Before she could attempt another warning, the screen door behind Miquel exploded off its frame.
One of the creatures had burst through it head first, ripping it off its hinges and getting the entire thing trapped around its neck. As its claws shredded the aluminum like paper, the other two greedily leaped past it and onto Miquel.
The combined weight and momentum of his assailants drove Miquel's chest into the well-groomed lawn, crushing his ribcage. The third one, now free of its annoying necklace, flipped him over, forcing Miquel to look into its reflectionless eyes.
Once again, Jenna’s instincts took over, granting her a respite from her boyfriend’s fate. She disappeared into the woods as the inhuman assailants pounded Miquel’s body with practiced precision, crushing his bones to powder while leaving the flesh whole.
Jenna ran blindly through the woods, tree branches and underbrush transforming her fair skin into a patchwork of crimson cuts. So consumed by panic, the sound of bubbling water from a nearby river was lost on her, as was the gnarled root that lay in wait. Snagging her foot under its crusted loop, she launched herself with pinwheeling arms over the side of an embankment and into the ice-cold river water. It took all her strength to keep her head above the foaming current as it swept her away.
The creatures, finished with their grizzly work, sniffed the air. Jenna’s perfume was an easily read road map, and the creatures flashed their yellow-toothed smiles at one another in appreciation of that fact. They tore off into a loping gait, running on all four spindly limbs with unexpected grace and speed. As they approached the river, their gaze focused on a point downstream.
Bobbing like a rubber duck in a whirlpool, Jenna fought to stay conscious and not let the river pull her under. The cold water sharpened her senses, allowing her to see a pin-prick of light further downstream. Letting the river do the work, Jenna quickly covered the distance to it.
It took all her strength to pull free from the river as her nails dug deep into its loamy embankment and the squirming things within. She crested its peak and collapsed. A road was in front of her, and on the other side, the source of her beckoning light, a small building! With salvation at hand, Jenna got her second wind and crossed the street.
A young man with shaggy hair was working the counter at the mom-and-pop convenience store, the type that sells days-old hotdogs next to containers of nightcrawlers and sexual performance pills. The clerk focused on the sketchbook before him, his ink-stained fingers masterfully wielding an assortment of colored pencils and pens. His artistic endeavors were cut short as a battered and mud-covered Jenna burst into the store before collapsing into a sobbing heap on the scuffed linoleum floor.
The sketchbook fell as the clerk rushed to Jenna’s aid. Kneeling beside her, he placed a reassuring hand on her quivering shoulder. When asked what was going on, Jenna couldn’t answer as she was frantically trying to make sense of the situation herself.
“It’s okay,” the clerk offered. “I’ll call for help.”
Heading back to the counter to make his call, something outside the store grabbed his attention. Three dark and shaggy figures stood silently, watching. At first, he thought it might have been a trick of light and shadows, but that was dispelled when one of them walked up to the storefront.
“What the fuck?” he muttered. “Are those apes?”
The ape-thing examined a bulky trashcan in front of the store, the kind designed not to be tipped over by the elements or ornery patrons. Its gaze then moved to Jenna and the clerk cowering on the other side of the storefront’s plate glass window.
The clerk grabbed Jenna by her arm and pulled her behind the counter before fumbling for his phone. Jittery with adrenaline, his fingers kept hitting the wrong numbers as he watched the creature effortlessly lift the trashcan above its head. The clerk was one digit into dialing 911 when the thing launched the can through the storefront window. It crashed into the front of the check-out counter, leaving a trail of broken glass halfway across the store.
The ape-things entered through the shattered threshold. The alluring smells of salts, fats, and grease drifted directly from brightly packaged junk food into their flaring nostrils. Thick drool streamed from their mouths, forming frothy rivulets down their shaggy fur.
Seeing the things distracted, the clerk dropped his phone for a more immediate solution. Pulling the store’s shotgun from under the counter, he brought the barrels to bear on the creatures. With surprising speed for such large and gangly things, they charged the counter as the shotgun exploded, the blast hitting the lead creature dead center. The ape-thing flew back past the others, landing in a display rack of chips. The clerk’s victory was short-lived as the other two sprang over the counter, roaring in rage.
Jenna had condensed her body as much as she could, disappearing into a darkened corner behind the counter. She watched wide-eyed as the two things tackled the clerk and began pounding him with their fists. While they tenderized their prey, Jenna slinked unseen from her hiding spot, belly crawling across the grimy floor towards the back of the store.
There was no back door, but the store did have a walk-in freezer. Jenna pulled at its bulky metal door and entombed herself among cartoons of milk and pallets of perishable goods. A dank mop was propped up by the entrance, which she grabbed and jammed into the door’s handle. Frantically thinking of what to do next, she noticed a solitary narrow window coated in frost looking out over the store. Inching towards it, Jenna peeked through the icy coating to figure out her next move.
The creature that received the shotgun blast rose from the floor, roaring in defiance. A bald spot in its fur curled smoke as it made its way behind the counter, picking up the discarded shotgun. It stood over the motionless clerk and repeatedly clubbed him with the weapon, shattering his skull across the floor. The other two hissed disapprovingly, seeing the flesh spoiled.
Jenna peered motionless out of the window, worried even the slightest movement might alert the beasts to her presence. The three creatures were doing something behind the counter she couldn’t see, but the pool of blood forming in front of it was all the information she needed. Emerging from behind the counter, the three spread across the store's aisles. If it was possible for such hellish things to know bliss, they seemed to be in a state of it. They tore into the shelves, shoveling food into their mouths. The more they consumed, the more frenzied they became as if they had a personal vendetta against every last chip and cookie in the place.
The one closest to Jenna’s tiny window began to choke, gagging up an entire package of hotdog buns coated in putrid bile. Scooping up the slimy mess, it successfully swallowed it on the second attempt. The three had become so enraptured by their food orgy, so overwhelmed by the most delicious of smells, they completely forgot about the tiny morsel quivering within the frosty confines of the freezer box.
Jenna remained motionless for an eternity, helpless to do anything but watch. The creatures proceeded to eat everything in sight until their movements became sluggish. The weight of the food caught up with them, and they stretched out on the floor. It didn’t take long before they fell into a deep slumber, the rumbling of their snores being the last thing Jenna heard before the stress of the evening caused her to collapse as well.
A ruddy-faced police officer pulled into the convenience store parking lot for a late night coffee and a pack of cigarettes. Seeing the shattered glass of the storefront, he turned on his cruiser’s lights and called in the situation before entering the store with his weapon drawn.
The store's interior looked as if a hurricane had been trapped inside. Toppled shelves flooded the aisles with their wares as frayed packaging confetti flitted on the breeze passing through the shattered window. When the officer saw the trashcan wedged into the side of the check-out counter and the pool of blood around it, he realized this was no act of nature.
Flashing cruiser lights illuminated the store’s parking lot. Inside, multiple officers spread out across the store, trying to piece together the grizzly clues of the evening. The body of the clerk was like nothing they had seen before. His bones had been broken so thoroughly that he collapsed into himself like a pile of laundry. It took the officers a moment to realize the crimson paste spread across the floor was once the poor man’s head.
As a group of officers puzzled over the unfortunate young man, another called from the rear of the store. “There’s someone back here!”
It took the burliest officer of the bunch to force his way into the freezer box, snapping the mop jammed into the door latch like celery. Beams of light from the officers’ flashlights skimmed over the freezer's contents before focusing on a tiny, quivering lump covered by a manky freezer blanket. As the lights penetrated the blanket’s folds, they reflected off unblinking eyes.
Officers flocked to the sides of the pile, helping Jenna to her feet. She was limp as a rag doll, her feet dragging across the floor as the police pulled her from the ice box. She remained silent as they gently placed her into a cruiser, exchanging the stained freezer quilt for a thermal rescue blanket. One of the officers shined a pen light into her eyes, finding the pupils unresponsive.
Inside, an officer took an interest in the long, dark strands of animal fur scattered among the store's wreckage. She hunched over one such strand, gently maneuvering it into a plastic baggie. As she sealed up the mystery strand, the officer’s attention was diverted by manic laughter echoing from the parking lot.
A group of concerned cops circled the vehicle containing Jenna. She had broken her silence, replacing it with furious laughter. Her eyes bulged with tears as the laughter tore through her throat, making it raw. Even as her vocal cords frayed, her howling grew only louder. As long as she could laugh, the thoughts wouldn’t return. She sank into that comfort, into the absurdity of it all. There would be no more monsters for her, only laughter.
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