Ever see Starship Troopers? The original flick, not the reboots they shat out after. It's about this fash space civilization fighting giant bugs. Pretty good special effects, for its day.

That is what this reminds me off. Dropped in a shithole worse than the one I've left, along with people I either don't know or can barely stand.

Oh, and we're surrounded by fuckhuge bugs out of every insectophobe's nightmares.

There are thousands of them, every shape and size: flies, beetles, maggots, centipedes. You think they're creepy when small? You ain't seen shit.

Well, time to play exterminator. And show off, just a bit.

"Stand back, everyone," I say, then bark some Hellion hoodoo. The bugs' front ranks burst into flame, like I've placed the world's biggest looking glass over them. The others draw back. Scared of fire, are you? I'll give you something to fear...

"Good idea, Stark!" Dresden says. Aw, did it break your heart to admit that? "Burn them! Fuego!"

A cone of flame shoots out of Dresden's phallic staff-insecure, are we?-, tearing through bugs like a chainsaw through shit. They shriek and skitter, jumping or flying back from the flames.

Wolfe opens fire with his fucking minigun-bastard can hold it in one hand and not feel the recoil-,incendiaries blowing bugs up like confetti, then turning the remains into torches.

The others don't join our little shooting session. Guess they lack the firepower.

But, eventually, we stop. Wolfe's incendiary rounds run dry, and Dresden stops to catch his breath. His magic is exhausting for him when used too much. Something to keep in mind...

The bugs slowly come forward when their dumb brains catch up with the fact that yes, the big bad scary fire is over. Come and eat some chumps.

"There!" Taylor shouts, pointing to a random ugly-ass ruin. "We'll hide in there and keep them out!"

"Who the fuck died and made you boss?" I ask, just to heckle him. It's a good idea. No point standing out in the open, waiting for bugs to eat our asses. If we bottleneck them...

"Go," the muscular guy-Clark?Clyde?- says. "I'll cover you."

"How-" I start, but he's gone. Air moves in to fill the place where he was an instant ago, cracking like a jet has taken off. Fuck, how fast is this guy?

"Come on!" Wolfe picks me and Suzie up in one arm, and Taylor and Joanna in the other. He lopes toward the building, Dresden sprinting to keep pace.

I look behind us, but all I can see is a purple-tinged blur zipping through the bugs. Wherever it moves, they explode. No, not explode. They fall apart like they are put through an impossibly quick meatgrinder.

What is this guy?

We reach the building, and Wolfe drops us. It's a testament to how fucking many bugs there were that we didn't protest to being manhandled like this. And Wolfe is fast, too-nothing like Mr. Living Blender outside, but still.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Speaking of, Choppy blurs behind us. There's not a drop of gunk or bug guts on him. I don't ask. Fucker's smiling like he's just stomped on some ants, and maybe he has, from his perspective.

We enter, and Wolfe slams the heavy steel door behind us, bending it so it stays up in the ruined frame. Doubt it will hold, for long.

There's not much in the building. Only the most desperate sons of bitches would squat here, and you'd have to put a gun to their heads. It's empty, the furniture and even the walls showing bite marks. The fuck...

And then, I see sonething that, not gonna lie, creeps the fuck out of me: a giant, man-sized cocoon stuck to a wall. I've seen some shit in Hell, but this is new.

I turn to look at Taylor. "Where the fuck have you brought us? Their hive?"

He shakes his head, but, before he can answer, I sense movement inside the nightmare cocoon, and hear a weak, erratic heartbeat. I swear, if Mothra comes out of that, I'm out.

Taylor and Joanna walk towards the thing and-the fuck is wrong with them?- put their hands on it.

"There is something inside this," Taylor says. "Someone. Trapped-by them, I think."

Joanna nods and, despite everyone's shouted protests, they begin ripping it open.

From it falls a thin, gaunt guy in a shabby, dirty grey coat. He looks like he's been through Hell thrice, and it's gotten worse each time.

I know the look. I see it in the mirror, sometimes.

Shabby slowly stands up, shaking. Then, he sees Taylor, and his eyes widen in rage. He steps back, one of his hands clutching at air, as if expecting to find a weapon.

"You!" He hisses, glaring at Taylor. "You dare show your face here? Now?"

"Eddie?" Taylor says, sounding surprised. "What's happened? What-"

"You happened, John!" Eddie snarls, sounding halfway between feral and crazy. "You and your damned-" Then, he breaks down into tears. Long, ragged sobs. He falls to his knees, hands clutching his chest. Then, something that will haunt me for the rest of my fucking days happens.

Eddie's body begins to writhe and shake, like he's having a seizure. Something moves beneath his skin:fat, writhing shapes, like maggots burrowing through a corpse. And that's what comes out of him.

Black, small slick shapes burst out of his body: through his skin, his eyes, his mouth. Joanna jumps back, vomiting. Taylor holds himself better, but he's still shaken. Fuck, we all are.

"Dresden!" I say, turning to look at him. "Make a shield!"

He nods, shouts something in Latin, and a blue, shimmering half-dome covers us... except for me. He knew what I meant.

I shout a Hellion spell, and a spinning curtain of flame appears around the little freaks. Take that, you chestburster wannabes.

I can hear them screaming as they try to pass through, burn and die. It's a disturbingly childlike sound. And, I think, worse than the monstrous sight of their birth.