Chapter 10 — Imminent Death

William burst out of the bathroom with Finn, nearly tripping as he ran for his life. He could hear the door creak open behind them—he looked back, and saw the skulk had hooked its appendage into the handle and pulled open the door. For a moment, it paused, its grotesque dog-like head tilted at an unnatural angle, as if sniffing the air. The dim emergency lights glinted off its mottled, oil-slick hide, and William caught the faintest glimpse of its gaping jaw, strands of saliva stretching between its teeth like cobwebs.

It moved haltingly at first, testing the hallway with a jointed limb. Its claws—if they were in fact claws; its appendages ended in points rigid enough to spear flesh, yet delicate enough to grab and hold like human fingers—tapped against the modern flooring of the hallway, slow and deliberate, as if hesitant about this new area.

Then, with a sudden, jerking motion, it mounted onto the left wall, clinging on in a gravity defying alien fashion that had something to do with its viscous coating, its body contorting strangely to appear slightly shorter now, its limbs folding and unfolding in a disjointed crawl as it began to approach them silently, sideways.

William stared blankly at the horror, momentarily stunned. It could be easily mistaken for the unknown monster he’d seen in the alleyway yesterday—yesterday felt like years ago now—and yet the way it climbed was different. It was different.

“Don’t look back—don’t look back!” Finn screamed.

William waved his phone at the skulk, the light no longer able to deter its movements besides momentarily disorienting it. The skulk continued its advance towards them. He could now hear its breath.

He turned around and ran. His heart hammered as he tore down the east wing hallway with Finn, his lungs so overworked that he couldn’t even scream, the skulk’s sinister steps echoing behind them like a death rattle. The corridor here was sleek and modern, in contrast to the bathroom’s post-volcanic era gothic style—instead of ceramic tiling, frosted glass panels lined the walls, illuminated by embedded LED strips that cast a sterile blue glow. Display cases showcased robotics trophies and holographic projectors, their cold light glinting off the Skulk’s oily hide as it scuttled sideways along the wall, its body compressing and stretching like a shapeless mass.

It was fast. With a shuddering click, its neck elongated, jaws unhinging to snap at the air just inches from Finn’s shoulder. Finn screamed, swerving violently into a display case of trophies. An old triathlon bronze cup fell from the cabinet, clanking onto Finn’s knee.

With a kick, the bronze cup swiveled towards the skulk, momentarily distracting it as it stepped backwards, assessing the new threat with cautious prods with its outstretched leg. For a brief moment, William wondered why the skulk seemed afraid of the bronze cup. Sleek, brass colored, and moving… in a way, the trophy appeared visually similar to the explosive traps the military used to hunt monsters. Perhaps that was what caused the skulk’s hesitance?

The time to wonder was not now.

“Come on, let’s go.” He pulled Finn to his feet with force and then ran, building precious distance between himself and the jaws of death as the skulk remained distracted, but that saving grace did not last. Pushing the bronze cup to the side, the monster mounted the left side wall and began its horrifying advance again, its movements alien and disconcerting.

William was quite fast, faster than Finn for sure, but his slippers slid against the floor and he couldn’t build enough traction. At this rate even he’d be caught. Running was a lost cause. Glancing left and right, he spotted a computer lab in front, and made the split second decision to change strategies.

“Left!” he shouted.

He crashed through the lab doors into a small room filled with rows of workstations and scanner printers, his momentum nearly sending him sprawling. The room smelled of circuitry and burnt toner, blue lights blinking at every workstation. He whipped around, hand shaking as he realized Finn was still behind.

“Hurry!”

Finn was still running—limping, even—as the sound of climbing came from behind, not more than a few seconds behind him. The margin was close, far too close for comfort, and Wiliam gritted his teeth, mentally preparing to close the door if Finn couldn’t make it.

He waited until the very last moment, until he could hear the clanking right behind Finn and there was not even a moment left to spare. The second Finn’s arm appeared in front of the door, William yanked him in forcefully and slammed the door shut as adrenaline coursed through his veins. The hollow boom echoed like a gunshot.

Fumbling, he twisted the lock closed with trembling hands, and just in time—a terrifying scratching sound came from the other side of the door. The monster on the other side seemed to be trying to dig in between the shutter and the frame, then paused as if to experiment, to test the door for pressure points.

Finn stood white faced next to him, his eyes large with fear as he dared not utter a single word, only wordlessly watching the door, that flimsy, old fashioned wooden door. The two of them stood in complete silence, listening to that terrible scratching sound. Then, it stopped.

“Is it gone?” Finn whispered.

William didn’t reply, his eyes still trained on the door, scanning each and every corner of it.

Finn made a hushing gesture with his finger, then leaned in towards the door delicately, cupping his ear against the crack in the door to listen. The blinking blue lights from the work stations illuminated his face along with the phone light which now hung limply in William’s hand.

It was quiet. Finn leaned in further, in an attempt to hear anything. Nothing.

Then, amidst the silence, a strange dark mist emanated from through the door frame crack.

“Get away from there!” William shouted in a panic.

Finn moved away, but he was late. He inhaled some of the black particles, and the effect was immediate. The mist appeared to have some kind of intoxicating effect, as Finn stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, his eyes slightly unfocused and glazed over. As this episode occurred, the mist also stopped coming in through the door.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

William had grabbed a chair as a weapon and stared intently at the door as the scratching resumed for a brief moment, before the sound of shuffling came from outside, like the skulk was leaving. Minutes passed. After a while, he finally accepted that the monster had left.

Finn continued to sit on the ground in a stupor, not quite unconscious but very much dazed. The mist…thinking back, that must have been the so-called drug that caused Ebenezer’s death. Too high of an exposure to whatever biochemical mechanics existed within the mist could have triggered heart failure in him. Perhaps the same thing happened to Abby, wherever she was now.

William wondered if the skulk would come back and try to break down the computer lab door with brute force, but his gut told him no.

His hunch was right. Something about the creature’s behavior had struck him as odd this entire time as he reviewed the facts. It seemed to pay extra care to avoid detection by humans, going far out of a monster’s normal activity pattern to clean traces of its activity. Despite its terrifying jaw and serrated teeth that could tear any person apart into a gorey mess, it acted cautiously.

Almost as if it was trying to conceal its very presence. Although the skulk could have at least tried to break the door with its massive bulk, it chose not to. And because of that, William was safe, for now. Thinking back to where it was first encountered, in the girls’ bathroom, it left almost no obvious sign that it had been there. But why?

Either way, it didn’t matter at the moment. He didn’t plan on leaving this computer lab for the rest of the night, because that thing could be waiting in ambush for them out there. He looked over at Finn. Finn had recovered slightly from the black mist, and now slumped against a desktop computer with a blank expression on his face, in a state of shock. Good. He needed quiet for a few minutes to put everything together in his head and figure out what to do next.

Now that he was completely alone with his thoughts and had mostly sobered up, it was probably a good time to review all the facts.

First of all, the skulk had to have been responsible for Ebenezer and Abby’s disappearances. The circumstances of their disappearances were far too similar—both simply vanished in the middle of performing a task that they desperately needed to complete for various reasons.

As for how Ebenezer died without any visible markings on him or signs of a struggle, he now had the answer. It was the mist. That he could say with high certainty, because healthy college aged students didn’t just drop dead out of shock. Finn’s current state after such limited exposure to the black mist supported this conjecture. Perhaps a higher degree of exposure could lead to heart failure or death by shock, like in Ebenezer’s case.

But as the facts unraveled, so too did additional questions. For instance, why did it not devour Ebenezer when it had the chance? It clearly got close enough to use its mist on him, so why not finish the job? What did it do to Abby—was she even alive? And most pressing of all, how did a monster get into the university through a military grade Gammon lockdown system?

And… was his theory correct?

Undoubtedly.

The fact that the monster acted with such calculated intelligence could be explained in no other way than the theory.

William pulled a chair out and sank into the computer desk, his head in his hands. He could still feel his heartbeat through his palms. He and Finn were alive for now, but for how much longer? Not just them, what about everyone else? He doubted that this particular monster would go on a rampage at school—it was far too cautious, too intelligent for that—but was this the only one? Were there other irregular monsters out there? He thought back to the monster that chased him last night, the one that climbed onto the second story of the building. A chill ran down his spine as the true implications of that impossible encounter registered. An irregular monster was outside and on the loose near civilians.

He had no time to worry about what might happen to others at this moment, however. Back to the most immediately pressing question. How did the monster get into a locked down building?

WIth brows furrowed in concentration, he dug into his memories. A single conversation with Finn came back to mind.

It’s kind of crazy that the Gammon Corporation knew to build a backup generator and everything. My dad always complains how thorough they are whenever they order caulk from us. If our impurity ppm is more than 50 they reject it outright.

Ah, naturally. The Gammon Corporation were sticklers for quality control. Nothing but the finest, nothing but the best. And that was where the crux of this university’s lockdown mechanism failed—not by a failure of the Gammon Corporation’s quality control; that part was quite fine, but rather exactly because of it, and because the base assumptions of the project were misguided from the beginning.

William quickly scanned the room. Based on a quick observation of the space and his deduction, they should be fine here, although he couldn’t say for sure.

He still had more deductions to make, but as he hazarded towards the darkness of the unknown, the missing pieces became far too numerous for him to do any more than field an educated guess, and Finn was beginning to stir.

“William,” Finn croaked, pointing at the water bottles sitting on the desk William was at. “Water.”

He grabbed one and walked over to Finn. There was so much he could say, so much he wanted to say, but every discussion had to start at the foundation. And in this case, it was Finn’s current unknown state of health.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I–” Finn began with a hoarse voice, his shoulders budging. “I can’t move my arms.”

So the black mist caused a degree of paralysis. Thank god he didn’t stay near the door. Even he couldn’t have predicted that. William uncapped the water bottle and tipped it into Finn’s mouth. When they got out of here—if they got out of here alive, he’d have to take Finn to a doctor immediately.

Finn drank for a while, before shaking his head to signal to stop. A bit of water spilled onto the ground.

“Feel better now?”

Finn nodded slowly, but his expression changed into a mixture of a sob and sheer terror. The reality of the situation must have finally caught up to him.

“What was that thing?” he said finally, between labored breaths. “Why is this happening to us? I thought we were supposed to be safe here!”

William waited until Finn calmed down. It took a while, but he was patient. This discussion was not one he wanted to have with Finn in a panicked state. After several minutes, when Finn’s hyperventilating died down, he finally replied quietly. “How much do you want to know?”

“You know something?” Finn asked incredulously, shooting him a sharp look.

“I do. Not everything, but a little. I have a theory.”

Finn paused before replying. “What is it?” His voice sounded different now, a bit more grounded than panicked, far more weary, and even slightly curious.

William looked at Finn, or at least that was his intent, but his eyes could not lie. He saw through Finn—beyond him—at something far larger.

It was a while before either of them spoke. Then, he finally began.

“Finn, tell me, what do you know about the madness principle?”