The impact to the back of his head spun his consciousness, eyes and face squeezed in reaction as he dealt with the blunt trauma that gave him a great deal of pain. Caressing the back of his head with both hands, he squirms and writhes on the ground as groans escape his mouth, the pain had caused him to forget momentarily about his predicament. Suddenly remembering his pursuer, he jolts his body around on the ground and peeks up and looks down the aisle behind him by raising his head and torso up with his hands, readying himself just in case he needs to flee again. To his surprise the man that he heard violently chasing him had somehow vanished as the lane was empty. He wonders to himself if the guy was even real at all and not a figment of his imagination? Glancing down at his arm that was grabbed, he can see his wrist is still covered in the blood that had been painted on him from the crazed man. His breathing is hastened and his vision seems to have blurred up a bit from the impact, but he can feel his pulse beating rapidly in his palms and face. He then attempts to pick himself up off the ground, but his actions are halted from a voice off to his side in a loud but stifled tone.
“Don’t, move!” The sudden words startle him as he quickly snaps his head to the left in the direction of the voice. He sees a man that is bracing himself with a hand placed on the structure beside him, he is kneeling and looking at him while his other hand rested on the ground. He appears to be shorter and less bulky than the other that he felt was trying to take his life. He was a white male that had short brown hair and a notable scar painted across his neck that continued onto his chin while a notch was taken out of the ear on the same side. Another scar was on the opposite side of his head that came down from his temple and stopped at his brow. He is confused by his urgent command but is thankful that this man seems to still have his sanity, gazing upon his face he can see his stoic and concerned look and wonders why this person is so tense.
“Lay down right now and don’t move!” He says to him in a fairly stern tone. Not sure what else to do he decides to put his trust in this stranger as he closes his eyes and rests his head down on the ground slowly. He can feel his face touch the wet floor that caused him to slip; the strong smell of iron makes itself comfortable inside of his nose and lungs. Sickened by the thought of what he is making contact with he notices that the temperature of the ground is hard to gauge. The blood feels Luke-warm as he soaks his cheek in it, making him think that the floor is heated or that the liquid is fresh. Suddenly his thoughts are interrupted by an approaching culmination of sounds. Just vaguely he can make out something wafting through the air, like it is lightly pushing itself along through a dim jet of air. Accompanying it is a gurgling or bubbling that is volatile, sounding like it is rising and falling in intensity. The noise had crept up rather quickly and seemed to slow down the closer it got to him as he felt a brush of air caress the back side of his body, tickling tiny hairs as it pushed by, giving him goosebumps. In the back of his mind he thought that he could feel its overwhelming presence weighing down on his body like being engulfed by heavy consuming water. The pressure frightened him and made his mind race as he continued to convince his body to be patient. Curiosity gets the best of him as he decides to open his eyes to try and see this being that had invited itself over. Only seeing the ground and the structure straight ahead of his vision, he turns his sight outwards to the left as far as he can. As his irises came to a rest at the edge of his sockets, he can only get dashes of long sharp appendages and the large roundish body they are attached to. The edges and hues this being is giving off are lost in translation and blur off into the background from the extent of his vision. He is able to get the gist of its figure and this appearance makes his chest feel tight as his bust begins to expand and compress rapidly.
Putting two and two together the best he can, he can only guess that this mammoth of a creature is floating behind and above him, vacillating in the air much like a helicopter. He can feel it staring and studying him, which felt like hours before anything else had happened. Abruptly a bright yet rusty orange light blinds his vision forcing his eyelids to shut in reaction, startling him, yet he is able to prevent the rest of his body from acting out. He can see the light penetrating through his closed eyes but the more concerning factor was the heat it gave off. Throughout every inch of his skin and inside of his body he felt the effects of the beam, which he assumed was coming from this strange beast behind him. Heating up not just the surface, but through the entirety of him where it seemed to land, coursing through like an x-ray. The longer this heat radiated on his topside, the more he could feel pain from the side of his neck where the strange needle-like sensation happened prior. It started to grow and etch inside like it did before, with this pain growing it further fueled his fear. The strange creature then started to make sounds as if it was talking while it continued to focus on the side of his neck, rough scratchy and clicking noises that were painful to his ear like nails on a chalk-board. It was like nothing he had ever heard before; as it talked more he interpreted it as the beast coming to a decision.
‘This is it, I’m going to die.’ Were the words he thought to himself inside of his head. A major conflict was being fought out in his mind, do I make an effort to run away and possibly die? Or do I lay here motionless and hope that it doesn’t kill me? His options were almost nonexistent as he imagined that his ruse was beginning to fall apart. What he and the floating monster failed to notice were the slaps of feet making their way towards them. He only caught on to what was happening from the harsh and violent nudge at the back of his right elbow. Someone had suddenly tripped on his arm and fell forwards to the ground landing on their chest with a loud grunt. The heat quickly averted away from his bust as he assumed the beast's attention was now focused on the newcomer. Confused and shaken from his acting, he darts his head up to see a man before him scrambling to his knees. Short brown hair as well, but before he can even brace with a foot, one of the large tendrils shoots out and pierces him through his back as he lets out a scream of agony. The monster lifts him up off of the ground, but the man's body begins to crumble and fall in what looks like clumps of dried cracked mud. Shortly afterwards another man that looked identical to the one that was impaled runs past, with his head looking back and a hand pointing backwards that is flipping the bird. His face is painted with delight and joy, laughing as he escapes off into the distance. He gets a study of him and sees that he has scars on his chin and forehead in the same spots as the other. He is confused as to what just happened, but doesn’t complain because it seems this strange person is saving his life.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Still looking up from the ground he watches as the beast hurls the remaining decaying lumps off of its appendage and quickly pursues the runner. It flies forwards above him as he feels more air pushing off and brushing past his body, the hulking bulbous creature takes over his view, its appearance is astonishing and frightens him to the core. Floating in the air swiftly with its eight insect-like limbs conjoining into the middle roundish body that seems to be a big thorax. A fin is cutting through most of its mid section vertically ending outwards in three points like a sail. On its underside he can see that it has two gaping holes, one on each the left and right sides which are closer towards the front. The color of its base is a light tan and cream color, the joints on its limbs are a rather dark brown that matches the top half of its midsection. It reminds him much like the shape of a flea, only massive and grotesque. As it is moving away from him he isn’t able to get a look at its face. He stares and watches them both fade off into the distance as they get smaller and smaller, the man then takes a right turn and the beast follows. The one thing that fascinated him was the sheer speed at which the both of them had moved, the man could easily outrun a bear.
He begins to push himself up off the ground and hears enclosing footsteps from where he saw the man prior. Looking up he makes eye contact with him again, perplexed for he wonders if this guy is a part of triplets, he ponders over the pile of dirt that accumulated on the ground and the matching scars on the other which makes him think otherwise. Standing upright and giving full attention to him who’s ambiguity unsettles him, unsure of what to do he sticks out his right hand in greeting and waits for a shake.
“I'm not sure what the hell this place is and what you did, but I think I owe you my gratitude sir.” The man smiles and sticks out his own hand to grasp the welcoming palm.
“Ah, such a formal young man you are. The name’s Chet.” The man says out to him as he approaches. Hearing this he thinks back to his blank memories and still is unable to remember his own name. His thoughts get disturbed from the incoming hand that makes contact with his own, this contact sends a jolt throughout his body that caught him unawares. Things then seem to be hazy as he feels quite lightheaded, easing back into consciousness as the sound of fingers snapping in front of his face wake him from this sudden onslaught of comatose.
“Hello? Anybody home?” Chet says, trying to get a response.
“Huh what?” He is visibly confused and stricken with torpidity. Last thing he remembers is shaking hands with this strange man and then everything went black.
“What happened?” He asks.
“I don't know, you seemed to have just zoned out for a minute there.” He looks into Chet’s face for a moment followed by his eyes moving from scar to scar studying them. He notices that he has been staring for a few seconds and feels somewhat embarrassed as he averts his eyes, but the man before him doesn’t seem to mind at all as he is still putting forth a big smile. A smile that looks to be stretched over a taxidermy. The man's eyes also make him feel uneasy as his bottom lids rise a little high for him to be comfortable with, half covering the blackness that is his irises that are like looking into a void. Suddenly the sensation of his daze pools back in, he puts a hand up to his head and looks down trying to collect his spinning brain.
“Sorry that was the strangest thing-” he looks back up midway through his sentence and gawks at the empty sight of the lane before him, only to notice that the man has vanished without a trace, exactly like the one that was chasing him beforehand. He thought this was insane considering he only looked down for merely a second. A few feet ahead on the sheen-less white tiles, he could still see the pile of dirt resting atop of them, so the man and what he saw happen must have been real.
“What the fuck is going on?” He says out loud in hopes that someone would answer him, yet to no avail was only greeted with the silence of the realm. The loneliness settled in once more, scared but also comforted because the man that presumably saved him, also gave him the willies. The disdain look in his eyes that was masked by a facade ‘why did he help me?’ he wonders. ‘Why did making contact with him make me black out?’ was another question that he would not get an answer to. Given this world and what he just experienced he wonders how much more of it he can take. The battle being silently fought in the back of his mind is but a war of attrition. A war that he feels like he is slowly losing with no hopes for reinforcements. Worried down to his bones that are brined with fear, his body decides to take over the wheel and steer him on down his original path, away from the thronging of despair.