Liam Hall

Wednesday, April 20th, 2022 (29 days after the Shutdown)

Liam was stuck in a dilemma.

The day of the Aurora Borealis, he’d overheard the potential location of food that he could take but there was a catch.

If he went and grabbed it, he’d make enemies out of a bunch of angry bikers who’d killed a man, and then likely die. If he didn’t take it, he would’ve starved to death and died either way.

A true predicament.

“Thou shall not steal.”

But if ‘thou’ was dead-beat broke?

He didn’t remember who said the original saying… Plato probably, but those words couldn’t be dismissed. Sure, he was on a street where every store had been looted, but if he overreached the repercussions would be dire.

One pack of rice, beans, chips, gum, cola, water, trail mix, and salted sunflower seeds.

Were those worth dying for?

The water… he had an inkling of how he’d already solved that problem. A peek behind the back of the shop where a mound of dried-up rats lay was enough to give him a hint. The rest… maybe not.

The only thing of use might be the beans he could use to potentially make a garden, but that was for the distant future. A future he might not see if he didn’t have enough food to survive until then.

Glancing at the boxes of chocolates in his sleeping area, he estimated another 2 weeks worth of food if he distributed it well.

A lot could change in 2 weeks, though. I might need the food more than I know.

After a couple seconds more of deliberation, he eventually decided to go to the place. Not only to take precautions against the scarcity of food but because… he was so mind-numbingly bored. Over the course of the past week he’d almost died 2 times and he’d stayed inside of this abandoned value-mart to lick his wounds.

Now that he was back to near-peak physical condition, wouldn’t it be smarter to explore his surroundings a bit more?

Secreting away his chocolate under a pile of assorted cardboard scraps, he strapped on his knife, took a ball-peen hammer from the tools the renovators left behind, and slipped out the back window.

Crunch.

Raising his foot at the sound, Liam nearly screamed, discovering he stepped into the mound of rat corpses.

Fuck.

Vigorously shaking himself free of the rat’s disintegrating bodies, he ran past the dumpsters and stone wall shielding the back of the store.

Shit! SHIT! Why are there so many of them?!

Somewhere in all this running he realized two things.

First, he was half-naked having thrown out his puke-stained shirt a while back.

Secondly and more importantly, he’d stupidly run away to a part of the city he was unfamiliar with. Thankfully, it seemed to be an industrial district which meant there was hardly any food. No food meant no prying eyes from people looking to shoot him… again.

All in all, no guns eqauled a happy Liam.

Picking the rest of the rat bones off of him, he retraced his steps. A handful of stalled cars were visible from where he was, springing up like mushrooms across the road. Warehouses stood on either side of him, but cold and lifeless, Liam knew if he were to check inside them there wasn’t going to be anything inside of them that was worthwhile.

Yet there was a strange allure to them… If he were to take residence in one of them, not only would the square footage of his living quarters vastly increase, but the isolation was also a security of its own. No one would bother to browse through an industrial avenue.

“Sheffield Steel”, huh? he remarked, reading the sign of the nearest warehouse.

There were more of the same types of warehouses specializing in lumber, landscaping, and a storehouse for a nearby quarry with a tract of land filled with heavy blocks. This would’ve been a paradise… His father had been crazy about construction, always leading dinner table discussions about new facts and techniques he’d learned on the site.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Liam hadn’t noticed his hand drifting to mother’s ring.

“Fuck,” he muttered resentfully, passing back through the alleyway to the street behind his store.

Maybe it was because he had dead rats on his ass the first time, but halting on the edge of the street he noticed a dysphoria amongst the local flora. To his left and right, dandelions, crabgrass, and knotweed ruled the streets, growing unrestrained. Which was completely normal.

Directly in front of him in the crevices of the wall, the weeds were withered and dead.

That’s not ominous at all.

Climbing to the top of the wall, in an almost circular fashion, everything within a certain radius from the store was dead. Even a tree on the street corner had one branch shriveled while the rest was a verdant green.

Hopping down, he stared at the pile of rats. Oh. Oh I see.

Something happened when he had that fever a week ago. And that something had made him the epicenter of a local killfest. If it's something to do with me… then is it because of the shadow monster?

Before he’d left Half-Moon Bay, he’d dreamed that a demon had appeared from a monolith and entered him.

That's a stretch, ‘cause the Creature would've also materialized if any of that was true, he assured himself, giving the mound of rats a wide berth as he moved to the storefront.

“Now where was that shop again?”

***

Where the hell is Routledge and the rest of these people?

The store they mentioned was easy enough to find. After confirming the food was still there, he decided to play it safe and found a rooftop to start his stakeout. One hour had gone by and he chalked it up to inconvenience. Hours later, the sun was at its summit in the sky, his scarred torso was cooking like Thanksgiving dinner, and there was still no sign of them.

Maybe they didn’t think it was worth the fuel to come and get it?

Remembering how mercilessly they executed the thief last night, he shook his head.

If it didn’t bother them and their whole point was to put on a show, they would’ve executed him in front of a larger audience. Or — praying he wasn’t about to play matador with the devil — he used the girl as the example. I wonder what happened to her?

Giving another round of scrutinizing looks to the surrounding shops, he let out a pent-up sigh.

There's no point in waiting any longer. Obviously can't take the food in case they come back and realize someone is in the vicinity.

Looking down at his exposed midriff, he frowned. Shopping while I'm in the area isn’t a bad idea—

“Help! Someone help!”

Liam spotted a miniature figure sprinting in his direction, one of his arms straddling the other and a limp leg dragged behind him. Casting furtive glances over his shoulder, the man pushed himself to move faster.

Nope. Ducking being the ridge of the roof, he could hear the man slowing down, likely looking between shops to find a place to shelter in.

“Anyone here! Please! Help me!” the man begged, desperation painting his face with a mix of fear and anguish.

Risking a look, Liam dropped back down. An ignorant bystander might mistake Liam for being an ass, but he knew better than to trust appearances.

Since entering this part of the city, he’d only encountered humans twice but both had ended up in someone dying. He wouldn’t involved himself again.

Plus, this was the same street the bikers used and if this was another one of their victims… well, he didn’t want to be caught within a mile of their prey.

Also, what type of idiot yells not knowing what else is out there?

“No! No, stay away! Get away from me!”

Who is he talking to?

Someone once told Liam the best kept secrets were the monsters under your bed because no one would ever know what they looked like.

What a bitter lie.

Venturing another glance at the street, a mass of animated shadows — the same one that woke Liam and left him in a cold sweat — hovered in the center of the intersection. H-How? His body instinctively moved away from the edge.

Finally overcome by his injuries, the man gave one last scream and collapsed.

Releasing a triumphant scream, the creature descended upon him. However, instead of plunging into him as Liam thought, it enveloped him in its amorphous ashen gray smoke. Flinching as it released a quiet wail, it moved on.

W-What happened? I thought the demon would enter him like it did to me… was I wrong then? Maybe this isn't the same demon that I saw under the Creature’s hall.

Watching it until it disappeared into a distant alleyway, Liam returned his attention to the aftermath of the man.

All there was to see was a stone statue cowering on the ground, his final moments immortalized in granite.

“Holy shit,” Liam whispered under his breath, leaning over the edge to get a better look.

It faced him, curled up in a fetal position with a broken leg frozen in a weird angle. Blood that had poured out of the man's open wounds had hardened to create striations on the statue. Yet, the most harrowing detail lay in the expression etched on its face—a scream so intense that its jaw was stretched open, and its eyes were tightly squeezed shut.

He didn’t know what to feel but a deep rooted fear within his biology only expressed relief. Relief that he had been on the rooftop, that he hadn’t been running in that street beside the man.

Bitter at himself for the thought, he wanted nothing more than to return back to his hideout; anywhere but here.

Wait… where did that thing go?

Realizing he hadn’t seen the monster since it went into the alleyway, Liam chuckled nervously.

“There’s no fucking way,” he whispered, looking behind the store.

A mob of monsters were waiting for him there.