@therealgamble @tarnishedhalo
The thing moved fast. A blur of limbs skittering across rotten wooden floorboards, fingers too long, joints bending in ways they shouldnât. It tore through the abandoned farmhouse, shredding walls lined with faded floral wallpaper, and launched itself toward the two hunters.
Riley pivoted, shotgun raised. The flash lit the room in white for half a heartbeat, and then the pellets hit, punching into a desiccated chest that parted and split and stayed bone dry. The creature staggered, stumbled, and then righted itself with a shriek from its fang-lined maw.
Brian was already moving. He charged at the thing, a knife flashing once before sinking deep beneath its ribs. Dust spurted out, splattering across Brianâs forearm, yet the monster didnât falter. It grabbed him instead, claws slicing through the fabric of his jacket and lifting him off his feet.
Without pause, Riley fired again. This time he aimed for the head. Another piercing scream as bone shattered, its gaunt grip retreating and dropping Brian to the floor. The thing shuddered, its gaping skull twisting almost a full rotation before snapping back into place.
Then the creature lunged.
Riley ducked left, sliding across the floor, shotgun clutched close. The thing followed. Relentless. Grasping hands and snapping teeth and one solitary gleaming eye. So focused on its prey until Brian launched up behind it, blade slicing through brittle spine and finishing the job Riley had started.
What remained of the monsterâs head tumbled to the ground. The rest of it took one final step, black nails still reaching toward Riley, before slumping into a dusty heap.
Silence filled the farmhouse, save for the two men catching ragged breaths.
It was only as they drove away, a small bonfire glowing in the rearview mirror, that Brian examined the damage to his jacket. âDamn it. I liked this one.â
Riley glanced over, one brow raised. âBetter the leather than your pretty-boy face.â
A loud snort escaped Brian. âWasnât me that thing was chasing around for a kiss.â He turned up the volume on Sallyâs old stereo, filling the car with a classic guitar riff, and laughed as his partner flipped him off.
Beneath them, the road stretched on, putting miles between them and a burning corpse, and ever closer to the next case.
gracieabrams
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2087
kianamaiart
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vaporwave
