Roger narrowly dodged what seemed to be black projectile stingers about as long as his middle finger. He pressed himself up against a Honda CRV and kept hearing the plinking of tiny arrows against the metal frame of the vehicle.
“Fuck off you little bastards!” he screamed before returning fire across the hood of the car.
The pellet spray from his shotgun tore up whatever was shooting at him. It had black butterfly wings and oily dark hair matted to a round torso. Six protruding stingers sprouted from center mass on the next one preparing to strike but Roger cut it down with another blast. That seemed to be the end of them, and he might be able to make down the street to the CVS. From there it’s a quick dash across the pavement to the retirement community.
Today had been a nightmare. Unimaginable creatures were popping out of every dark corner. It made him think of the end of days. The book of revelations didn’t mention any of these things. Also, where were all the people? He’d been practically alone for blocks. This is a population center, there had to be more people about.
“Where the fuck are the cops? You were right Flav-a-Flav, nine one one is a joke,” Roger said before cocking his shotgun.
Then that blinking light flashed more insistently in his vision. He decided to look at it before finally understanding where everyone else went. Apparently, there was a get out of hell free card he’d been ignoring. The time lapse was almost up but he couldn’t just cut and run without checking on the oldies. He’d almost made it there, what’s a few more minutes.
Finally, he made it to the front door, and he took out his keys. As he looked for the right key the door just fell inwards right off its hinges. The keys got stuffed back into his jacket as the shotgun came back up. He put his back to the wall on his left and aimed down the hall. He spun right as he came up to the reception desk to see Mildred seated on one of the couches in the sitting area.
“Who is it? Is that you Roger? The damn tv isn’t working and I want to watch my stories,” said Mildred in the way only the elderly who no longer give a fuck can.
Mildred had her hair up in curlers and she wore a house dress that went down to her ankles. Next to her slipper clad feet by the couch was her walker with tennis ball coverings on the front stubs. Roger had never been so happy to see her.
“I’ll take a look at it after I check on everyone Ms. Mildred. Have you seen the rest of the staff today?” asked Roger as he placed the shotgun on the reception desk.
“You’re the first. Several of the other seniors just left. I tried to tell them the bus for the senior’s center doesn’t come until after lunch but if they want to stand outside in the cold that’s their problem. I’m too old to be their babysitter,” complained the old woman.
“You right, Ms. Mildred, you right,” said Roger as he stepped deeper into the building to check to see if anyone else is left.
Further down the hallway he noticed signs of a struggle. Tipped over trays of food, clothing, and various nick knacks strewn about. Roger was brought up short when he passed by Gus Feldman’s room. There was blood all over the bed. Multiple sets of footprints led out of the room. They were strange looking. Roger got down on one knee to inspect them only to see the toes were more pointy than normal. A scream came from the front of the building and Roger realized he’d left his shotgun at reception like an idiot. He’d fallen into complacency once he saw Mildred and now it would cost her life. He sprinted back down the hallway to the common room to a scene straight out of a seventy’s horror movie.
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The top half of Mildred was covered in a patchwork of flesh and limbs. The substance had flopped over her head like a disgusting blanket. Her curlers and clothes were just separated from her flesh and pushed aside. The top of her skull could be seen lolling over the back of the sofa as the undulating creature continued to move down the length of here body. Roger was snapped from his abject horror when ten flesh less skeletons came from the dining area in the back of the common room. They clacked their way across the floor to him at speed. Their eye sockets filled with an eerie purple light. Roger kicked the first one away from him as he turned to grab the shotgun off the desk.
Bony hands grasped his body bringing him down to the floor. His fingertips grazed the barrel of the gun on his way down. It rolled off the desk and clattered to the floor to his left. The skeletons were struggling to lift him before they started to drag him back from the hallway. At this point he was rolled over onto his back and could see that Mildred was completely consumed. Her skeleton rose slowly off the couch as purple light flickered in the sockets that used to house her cataract hindered eyes. Roger spared the briefest of seconds to mourn her before pain lanced through his leg. That flesh thing had made it to his right leg.
Out of either desperation or fear or an animalistic sense of self preservation, he broke the grip the skeletons had on him. It was just enough to lunge for the shotgun dragging the flesh monster with him. He grabbed it in his right hand, spun it around, but instead of lining up on the skeletons he aimed below his own knee and pulled the trigger. Blam!
It wasn’t clean but the shot split what was left of his right leg off from his body. The buckshot peppered the flesh blob, and it rolled over to reveal Mildred's face trapped in a rictus scream. All the skeletons simultaneously grabbed that their own heads and slowly clacked their mandibles while shaking left and right. Roger turned this into an opportunity to get away. He crawled for the door trailing blood from his newly severed leg. It was below the knee but that wasn’t helpful. If he could make it to the shed around the corner on the lawn. He could lock it from the inside. Maybe fashion a tourniquet. The pain was excruciating but he wasn’t about to get ate up. The monsters were still performing that mockery of life tableau in the common room when he made it outside. He tried to climb up the wall to get on his good leg using the shotgun as a crutch. It wasn’t long enough, and he end up rolling forward and to the right into the grass.
From his vantage point, Roger could see the shed. He still had his key ring on him and the shed key was the most bulbous of the bunch. It had a blue rubber covering on the head. His vision started to swim. He was losing too much blood. Finally, he made it to the shed and jammed the key in the lock. The door swung open, and he pulled himself inside. As he closed the door the first of the skeletons stepped out of the retirement home and turned left.
Roger grabbed a piece of nearby wood and bit down on it. He pulled off his belt and cinched it tight around his new stump. The wood barely muffled his scream before he blacked out. He came to sometime later. The pain was still blazing up and down his leg. He knew he needed to do something, or this was the end. Desperately he looked around the shed. The remnants of daylight were still peeking through the wooden slats. His eyes picked up a slight glow from several different items. The first was a small acetylene tank used in campfire lanterns or small blow torches. Next was the housing on the nearby lawnmower. The aluminum handle on a spade. Finally the thick rake he’d budgeted for when he got hired. In his mind he could see how each individual piece could be combined to replace his missing limb. The idea was preposterous but if he didn’t do something he was a dead man anyway.
“Time to sack up,” Roger said psyching himself up.
He used the torch to cauterize the wound. The pain bringing the burly Black man to tears. Then he removed the lawnmower’s housing, grabbed the rake and the aluminum handle of the spade. In his mind’s eye he could see currents of energy flowing through each of the pieces and instinctively all he had to do was align them properly. Once the currents matched up in the proper order he received a slate message.
Mana Forged Lower Limb Blueprint created.