Her mistake was believing in the safety of being outside in the street, surrounded by people who would hear her scream and somehow rush out to help her and make everything better. She now knew the house she had fled was the last thin veil of protection. There were no people out here who could help, and if there were then they would only serve to share her terror.
Joline’s world had changed forever in the last hour. It was a normal October evening at home with her boyfriend Scott, infront of the TV letting the steady stream of soaps pass the evening away. They were both interrupted by a shuffling sound coming from the dining room. Joline instantly recognised it as something that should not be there, something not right – too heavy to be one of their cats jumping around. She looked at Scott and wondered in that split-second if the same thoughts went though his head; had she not locked the door, was someone inside, was it a local youth trying to steal something, was it a drunk from the pub next door?
Scott stood up and looked at the Japanese sword that was mounted above the fireplace. It was more of a display piece than a weapon, but still semi-sharp and would serve to deliver at least one lethal blow before the blade would no doubt fall away. “No!”, Joline whispered whilst pushing her eyebrows together to show a look of distress while gripping Scott’s shirt. She knew enough about the law in the UK that if there was someone inside and Scott was to use an actual weapon on them, then chances are he would be locked up for daring to stop an intruder and no doubt get sued by them for “mental cruelty” or some other nonsense. Scott nodded his understanding and put his hand on her shoulder. “Stay here”, he whispered back and moved towards the door, noticing that the shuffling had stopped.
Joline gripped her hands together in a mix of adrenaline and fear. If there was someone inside, a few strong words from her boyfriend would put it right and they would either run or stagger out of the house and Joline could laugh when it was all over and joke to the girls in the office tomorrow about her knight in shining armour. First, they had to get through this though.
Scott opened the door and stepped out, not overly making a noise but also showing confidence and determination. Part of him feared the embarrassment of the situation and what to say rather than the risk of violence. How typically English he thought. The back door was wide open and the night breeze wafted through, confirming Scott’s fears. Someone was inside their house. It was then he saw him, standing in the corner of the room in the darkness with his back turned and head drooped forwards. “Oi, what’s your game?” snarled Scott, sounding more like a London doorman than the Nottingham engineer he was. The figure slowly turned and Scott gasped despite himself. The skin was pale, deadly pale. There was dried bloody down the side of the body from huge tears in the side of the neck and throat. Glazed eyes looked up towards Scott as blood bubbled from the wound in the throat and a feral growl sounded.
Joline’s scream brought Scott to his senses. “Run!” he shouted as he took three strides towards the figure and sent a right hook straight into its face. The man, if that is what it was, made no attempt to block the punch or even flinch as its head snapped backwards and it fell against the wine rack, knocking over the crystal whiskey decanter that sat on top. Scott turned to face Joline, still frozen in shock at the scene, with her face now pale that was heightened more by her long red hair contrasting against her. “Call the police!” he shouted at her. Joline’s eyes locked onto his and she nodded, but suddenly her eyes went wide and looked beyond Scott. Her deep breath in ready to scream was all Scott needed to turn around, but not quick enough. Another figure burst through the open door, its intestines hanging in-between its legs like a grotesque tail and most of the flesh torn off the face. Scott turned to face the newcomer but the force of its entrance caught him off balance and long reaching fingers pressed into his face. It was Scott’s turn to cry out as blood stained teeth sunk into his cheek and tore flesh away.
Joline screamed again, not knowing how to help her writhing partner, until the first intruder stood upright and started towards her, its eyes still glazed but also showing a hunger and yearning.
Joline turned and fled towards the front door, knowing her Scott was already dead. She searched the settee looking for the keys she always dropped there, as the creature slowly staggered towards her. She found Scott’s keying and fumbled at the door lock, knowing the creature was less than a few foot away. With a savage pull she opened the door and ran outside, feeling it slam behind her with the weight of the creature who had fallen towards her in an attempt to stop her.
“Help!” she shouted as she ran into the middle of the road, “For god’s sake someone help!” She saw a group of people standing by the street corner and started towards them. She then realised they were not people. The same staggered steps, the chilling slowness at which they moved. These things were outside. Everywhere she looked the only movement was from the same creatures – though house windows, in gardens, on the pavements.
She ran away along the middle of the street, tears streaming down her face, the earlier rain water splashing her bear feet and legs.
The creatures slowly started moving towards her.
Leigh currently lives in Nottingham. Still a newcomer to publishing stories, Leigh enjoys experimenting.
Nice build-up of tension.
One small typo:
rain water splashing her bear feet and legs.
This should be bare, unless she’s terribly hairy g