The creature was gaining on Frank. He needed to change his strategy, fast. Running away wasn’t something that he could do forever, not with his poorly maintained health and days of not sleeping.
Frank had two bullets left in the magazine. He regretted panic shooting, thinking it would work on a creature like that. He only had a civilian magazine—not any of the magical magazines that the suits would use. He looked back while running. Focused his senses on the creature's knees. Fired the two remaining rounds of the magazine.
The creature tripped and fell down. Frank immediately reloaded his pistol. He knew that it would take more than that to immobilize the creature.
The creature screeched again. It used its arms to crawl to Frank at an unnatural speed.
Frank continued running. He was running out of breath. Hitting its knees slowed the creature just enough for him to gain some distance.
Two paths merged up ahead as he ran. It was the opposite side of where he came from. Frank knew that meant that he was almost out of the park. The thought of shooting the elbow joints of the creature surfaced in his mind. It was to immobilize the creature even further, giving him more time to escape. Though he had given up on such thoughts. His body ached everywhere. His heart was at its max, legs burning from fatigue, a splitting headache had set in from changing the target location in his earlier stunt. Only adrenaline in his veins kept him running.
The trees started to clear and the exit was near. There were no apparitions around or anything ghostly. Frank didn’t care about those minute details. At the end of the block up ahead from Park, Alan’s house usually had his door unlocked.
Frank made a beeline for the house up ahead, firing a couple more shots as he ran. The blue trails of the bullets curved, each one hitting the creature in the head. Despite the hits, it continued crawling—unaffected by whatever he threw at it.
Frank had managed to arrive at Alan’s door, twisting the knob, but the door did not budge. Immediately, he reached down under the welcome mat, only to find the spare key wasn’t there. The creature’s screeches were getting closer with every passing second. He ran to the side fence entrance, climbed over it, and headed straight to the back door.
The backdoor, for whatever reason, was wide open. He didn’t have time to think about it. The door was shut with a loud bang. It was a heavy metal door. Ever since Frank knew Alan, he knew right away he was one of those people that wore tin foil hats. As stupid as it was, his house was a fortress of heavy metal doors and metal shielded windows. Though judging from the creature, those obstacles would only be a slight hindrance to it.
The creature screeched at the other side of the door. A loud bang followed it with a large dent on the heavy metal door. Sure enough, it wasn’t going to hold. With each consecutive strike, the door groaned in agony.
Frank ran heading for the stairs. As soon as he got to the stairs, the door flew open, making a huge mess of the kitchen. Alan wasn’t going to like what he sees when he comes back home.
Frank dashed into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. This particular room had an even heavier door which had seven locks, something he had always teased Alan about. He locked each one quickly. After locking the last lock, the creature again struck at the door. The dent wasn’t as big as the back door’s dent. It was a brief moment of respite to catch his breath. He knew it wasn’t done.
The creature was still behind that door. It was hell bent on tearing him to pieces. If Marcus was right, then a creature like this would also be something that came out of a rift—whatever that was.
The joints of the door started to groan. It wasn’t only a few more strikes until it burst open. Frank looked around to see what was in Alan’s room. There was a panic room in the closet that most paranoid maniacs had. He debated on going into it. It had thicker metal than any of the doors so far, at least three times thicker. However, there would be nowhere else to run to after he trapped himself into the metal coffin.
There was only one choice left. Frank opened the window, climbing on to the roof. Looking down, there was nothing that could break his fall. Alan cleared out anything that would be a hindrance to visibility around his windows.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Fuck!” Frank cursed at Alan. If he were to fall down, he would definitely break something and it would slow him down from running even with all the adrenaline.
There was no other choice. He slowly put himself on the edge and then fell down to the ground. His ankle twisted as soon as it met the ground. It was the worst part he didn’t want to injure.
Frank pushed on, slowly limping away from the house. After a few steps, he heard the door of the master’s bedroom finally burst open. The creature's screech seethed even more with rage as it did not see its prey in the room.
The loud thud on the ground meant behind alerted him that the creature had already continued its pursuit of him. His speed was at a limp. There was no other way out. None of the houses were locked, but none had any of the metal doors that Alan had equipped his. The creature would tear through its wood like paper.
Frank grinned. His body started to slow down as it exhausted its adrenaline reserves. As his body fell to the ground, he only had one thought—He was really about to die this time. He finally had the chance to uncover the mysteries of what happened 17 years ago, only to die to a creature he met randomly. There was nothing else in his arsenal that could do anything to the creature. It was a realization how insignificant and powerless he was in the grand scheme of things, akin to a small ant in a vast world.
Madness seeped into his eyes and he started laughing. He emptied his pistol into the air. Blue trails swiftly traced to the creature, hitting its torso and head. Yet it still continued to crawl forward. He reloaded once more and emptied the magazine again, hitting the same spots, but to no avail. The creature didn’t even register any sign of slowing down this time.
As the creature got closer, Frank finally saw its form in clarity. The creature’s head was hollowed out by his bullets, blood dripping and gray brain matter spilling down from the bullet holes. Its claws weren’t even damaged from its strikes at the thick metal doors.
Suddenly, Frank felt his stomach churn and himself skidding through the sidewalk pavement, away from the creature. A man in a suit kicked him away. The man was relatively short, holding a double barrel shotgun in each hand.
The man immediately aimed both shotguns precisely at the creature’s head. A blue light flashed at the end of the barrel. The gun shots were muffled enough that Frank had to concentrate to even hear the shot. But once again, the creature ignored the damage to its head and swiped its claws at the suited man.
The man flipped backwards, the claws missing his legs only by a hair. In mid-air, the man’s cold eyes aimed his shotguns at the creature once again. Blue lights flashed once more, bullets hitting the creature’s torso. This time, having a minor effect as the creature twitched.
Both shotguns opened simultaneously, ejecting the spent shells. Glowing red shells materialized out of nowhere, hovering momentarily before slotting themselves into the shotguns' receivers. The man aimed and fired again, twice from each shotgun. This time, a small red glow flashed at the end of the barrels, but no bullets emerged. Instead, four beams of scorching red light shot out from different directions, piercing the creature.
It tried to escape the beams, but they tracked its every move. In a desperate last ditch effort, the creature lunged at the man in the suit. But he was ready. The shotguns were gone, replaced by a larger, more rugged shotgun aimed directly at the creature, as if he anticipated its next move. He squeezed the trigger. This time, the shot rang out clearly, reverberating through the night and making Frank's ears ring.
Half of the creature's body disintegrated, and the remaining half collapsed onto the pavement. The man kicked the twitching legs away, sending them flying.
“The name’s Oliver, you can call me Ollie.” The man spoke.
“Fuck, you finally came out before I was about to die?” Frank replied.
“My job was to monitor you, not to be your bodyguard” Ollie replied, his voice monotone. “If you had left the ghoul alone, it would have ignored you.”
Frank couldn't think of a witty comeback. He knew Ollie was right. He hadn't seen another person in the park for the past five years. Doing a wellness check here had been a terrible idea. His hunch had betrayed him, driven by overwhelming curiosity.
Ollie continued, “You shouldn’t have followed your hunch this time, Frank.”
“I’m still alive ain’t I?” Frank grumbled, “How would I have found you assholes if I didn’t followed my hunches”
"I didn't have to save you," Ollie said coldly, his eyes as icy as when he dealt with the creature.
“But you did,” Frank picked himself up. He limped his way back to the park to go back home. Alan was going to pick him up any minute.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Ollie asked.
“Back home,” Frank replied.
"Don't you find it strange that the world feels and looks different?" Ollie asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Frank looked around again. The moon was up; it was midnight. There were no wails or apparitions, no wind, and the park was eerily silent.
“We’re in a rift. If you want to live, you better follow me. We have to find an exit.” Ollie said, his face devoid of emotion.