The demon inside, p.6
The Demon Inside, page 6
Grabbing her around the waist, Alec dragged her out into the hallway, swinging the door shut between them, but that thin barrier was no use when the images were burnt into her retinas. Cupping the back of her head he pressed her face into his shoulder to muffle her cries. A moment later her fist hit his stomach. Again and again she hit him, until all the energy drained away and all she could do was cling heartbrokenly to him as her tears soaked his shirt.
“We need to call the police,” she whispered finally, her voice a painful rasp, her eyes raw.
“I’ll do it.” His grip on her didn’t loosen as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and punched in the three numbers, as if he thought she’d unravel if he didn’t hold onto her tight enough. Maybe she would. The shock had disappeared to be replaced by numb disbelief.
“I can’t get through,” he muttered, stroking her hair, “why don’t we go outside and try again?” She was about to nod in blind agreement, when the blaring of a horn from outside had her head snapping towards the front door. They both flinched in shock.
With his fingers curled around her wrist, Alec bolted for the door, dragging her along with him. On the doorstep he halted so suddenly that she stumbled into him, an audible gasp hissing from between his teeth. Around his arm she could see Hope sitting in the van, slamming on the horn, her face panic stricken as she looked towards them out of the window, but whatever she and Alec could see was blocked from Darcy’s view by his body.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to see, not with the recent horror still fresh and bloody in her mind, causing nausea to roll through her in great waves, but still she stepped around him and her breath caught in her throat.
What was happening? This had to be a dream. All of it had to be a dream, a nightmare from which she’d wake any minute. In the middle of the street another body was sprawled, its limbs still twitching and struggling as blood frothed from its head. Crouched over the dying man Mrs Neville, the frail, white haired old lady from down the road, dug arthritis riddled fingers into his cracked skull and pried the pieces apart to reveal a pink, fleshy organ still pulsing faintly with life. And then the old woman ripped into it, grabbing bloody handfuls and shovelling them into her mouth, smearing gore across her wrinkled face as she gobbled it down.
The world froze in dismay.
“Oh my God, oh my God...” Darcy chanted under her breath, gripping the back of Alec’s shirt tight enough to make her fingers ache.
“What the hell is going on?” Alec whispered, his face ashen as he stared at the gruesome scene before them. Locked in the van, Hope sat frozen and wide eyed for a minute before she started to panic once more, banging on the window and slamming on the horn, the sound a sharp shock to the senses as it split the silence pressing in around them, making her jump.
A hunk of brains still dangling from the corner of her mouth, Mrs Neville’s head whipped around, seeking out the cause of the disruption. She looked at Hope, who recoiled instantly, pressing back into the seat as the old woman slowly rose to her feet and took a slow, predatory step closer.
“Oh shit,” Alec muttered, “we’ve got to do something.” Unable to speak, her throat gone completely dry, she nodded, powerless to look away as Mrs Neville began to investigate the van’s front grill, almost as if she’d never seen one before.
Swallowing convulsively, she forced the words out in a whisper, “What do we do?” Glancing up at him, she saw the indecision glimmering in his eyes, before his expression hardened and he drew away to duck back into the house, appearing a moment later with two long golfing umbrella’s liberated from the turned over stand in the hall. On his phone he made a quick call, assumedly to Hope, because over in the van her sister started, looking wildly about her, before she searched around for something and raised her own mobile to her ear.
“Unlock the door,” Alec said curtly into the phone, nodding to her when she began looking around for them, “and put the key in the engine. Is it done...? Good.” Hanging up, he trust an umbrella into Darcy’s hand, ordering tightly, “Stay beside me.”
Holding her breath, Darcy followed close behind him as he hurried down the front path towards the van. Immediately, the old woman’s gaze swung towards them and Darcy stumbled at the sight of her eyes; they were completely awash with white. The very thing that separated humans from animals, the ability to reason with them, to communicate, was gone from her eyes, leaving only a blank light. Alec faltered too, but then he grabbed her wrist and continued forward, dragging her along in his wake. Cocking her head, watching them intently with those eerie eyes, old Mrs Neville stalked around the front of the van, blood dripping slowly from her chin.
“Shit, shit, shit...” Alec chanted under his breath, muscles tense as he paused, fingers flexing around the umbrella he brandished like a bat. They took another step. She lowered into a crouch, as if she were about to pounce. They froze.
“Back up,” he whispered, “slowly... Further.” When he deemed her a suitable distance away, he took a deep breath which seemed to shake his entire body for a moment, before he suddenly lunged forward onto his right foot. Instantly the old woman roared, a blood curdling, inhuman sound, and attacked.
It happened so quickly Darcy didn’t even have time to scream. As she flew at him, Alec swung the umbrella, hitting her squarely and sending her hurtling away. He didn’t wait to see if she went down.
“Run!” Hauling open the door, he shoved her inside and scrambled in after her, slamming the door just in time. Tripping in her heels, Darcy smashed her knee against the edge of the door frame, but the sharp pain barely registered as Mrs Neville flung herself at the closed door just as Alec violently thumped down the lock.
There was a lot of shuffling and cursing as Alec tried to scramble over them into the driver’s seat and even more swearing when he twisted the key and the engine stalled... twice, but to Darcy it was background noise; she was focused on the sight of the old woman clawing at the window, howling in rage. The sight was made nonetheless terrifying by her dentures sliding around her mouth, unhinged and lubricated by all the blood staining her fake teeth.
When the van finally lurched to life and Alec preformed a sharp U-turn, Mrs Neville chased after them as they sped down the road, tyres squealing.
“That was Mrs Neville,” Hope cried as they swerved out onto the main street, “what was wrong with her? Darcy, she can barely walk without her stick! What was that? What is going on? Darcy? Alec? Darcy?” Her voice rose in distress, but Darcy was unable to say anything, so she merely reached over to grasp her sister’s hand, squeezing tightly, tears stinging her eyes once more. Soon she’d have to tell her sister that their parents were dead, that there would be no more kisses, no more hugs, no more loving words from the people who had given them life.
It was soon obvious where they were heading, as they passed groups of youths hanging out on the streets. But as they drove towards the council estate which was Alec’s home, she realized that it was different than before; now the gangs weren’t idly hanging around, drinking beer and awaiting the opportunity to make trouble, they were fighting amongst themselves, which was not unusual in itself, but the way they crouched on their haunches, scrabbling at something on the ground, falling upon it like rabid hyenas, caught her attention. Turning away from the group, one teenager clasped something in a fist, shoving back the young men who tried to snatch away his prize. Realization dawned as he began to eat the thing clasped in his hand.
“Jesus Christ...” the van swerved as Alec saw the scene, the group’s dead eyes flashing in the headlights as they looked up at the van in interest. Breathing heavily, Alec stomped on the gas and only slowed when they turned into the estate. Instead of parking he drove right up to the stairwell, the yellow lights illuminating the empty cavern.
“Let’s go,” he said firmly, but beneath it she could hear his unease, so could Hope and she fidgeted in her seat, biting her lip.
“Maybe we should just stay here,” her sister suggested.
“We can’t stay here all night,” Alec answered pragmatically, looking down at her and pasting on a reassuring smile which almost looked genuine, “we’ll be safer up in the apartment and we can find out what is going on, it’s bound to be on the news or something. I promise everything will be fine, okay?”
“He’s right, Hope,” Darcy murmured when she continued to look unconvinced, “we can’t stay here.” Glancing between them, fear obvious in the round blue saucers that were her eyes, Hope pressed her lips together and nodded.
Outside the night was disturbingly quiet, as if the world was frozen in horror by the things it had seen, and every single sound felt as if it carried for miles, drawing the attention of every single white eyed creature in the vicinity. The click of the door shutting made her flinch; she and Hope had shed their heels in the van but still their footsteps on the concrete stairs sounded obscenely loud, as did their heavy breathing and the pounding of their hearts.
They were one floor away from safety when they heard the stampede of feet above their heads, accompanied by animalistic snarls echoing down the stairs. Instinctively, Darcy started to back away, along with Hope, but Alec stopped them.
“We’ll never make it down, we have to keep going.” Saying no more on the matter, he grabbed a hand each and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his longer legs making easy work of the last flight of stairs between them and their destination. Along the fifth floor landing they ran, skidding to a halt outside Alec’s door. Frantically, they looked around, constantly checking the stairwell at the end of the hall, as he fumbled with his keys. Hope screamed as a pack of white eyed monsters spilled onto the landing. Immediately they saw them and a triumphant howl shook the walls.
“Hurry!” Darcy cried as they ran headlong towards them.
“I’m trying!” His hands were trembling too much to get the key in the hole; it slid off the lock and scraped the wood. The noise was deafening as the things go nearer and nearer. Any moment now they would fall upon them, rip them to pieces and devour them, like a pack of lions with a gazelle. Suddenly, the key slid into the lock and with a twist of his wrist, Alec flung the door open.
Tumbling inside, they kicked the door shut, pressing their bodies against it, holding it shut as the creatures threw themselves at the wooden barrier, clawing at it, making guttural sounds of anger and frustration. However, their flash of relief was short lived. The deafening explosion of a gun tore through the room. A spray of bullets bit into the wall beside her head in a shower of plaster. They all cried out in surprise and fear, clutching at one another. Spinning around, Alec was the first to take in the situation.
“Dad!” He yelled, “What the fuck?” Beside the sofa, swaying on his feet, eyes veined with red, Alec’s dad pointed a rifle in their direction. It had been pure luck, and a large quantity of alcohol, that had stopped one of them being shot.
“Alec,” his voice held momentary recognition and maybe guilt, as the barrel of the gun dipped, before he brought it back up, aiming right at them, his tone hardening, “how do I know you’re you?” Briefly stunned, Alec blinked back at his dad, mouth open.
“Our eyes aren’t white,” Darcy answered quickly for him, “see?” Silence. After a moment he lowered the gun, staggering forward until he stood in front of them. Beside her Alec bristled as his dad reached out to grip her chin, turning her head this way and that, before doing the same to his son with rougher fingers and glancing at Hope, who was pressed up against Darcy’s back, clutching at her arm.
“They did have white eyes,” he murmured quietly, as if to himself, drawing back and stumbling away to sit heavily on the sofa, “them little bastards, they had white eyes.”
“Dad,” Alec’s voice shook subtly, “what’s going on? Have you heard anything? On the news, or radio?” He shook his head and Alec sighed, muttering something under his breath which sounded like, “Bloody useless, good for nothing drunk.”
Outside the door, the thumps on the wood began to die away and inside the small apartment some of the tension seemed to disappear with it, as Alec crossed the room to switch on the TV, giving the top a firm slap with the palm of his hand when it refused to pick up anything but static. He hit it several more time before a picture leapt onto the screen, fuzzy and jumpy for a moment until it found its focus. Flicking through the channels, Alec found the local news and stepped back as Darcy and Hope came forward, all of them staring intently at the reporter on the screen.
“A sudden outbreak of unexplained violence has emergency services across Sussex swamped tonight, not only in the cities, but also in rural areas that usually see little violence. However, it is not only Sussex which appears to be experiencing such an epidemic, but also the rest of England and we are receiving reports that similar things are happening across the world in America, Europe and Asia. Locally, there have been reports of cannibalism but such claims have yet to be validated and...” The handsome young man, in a smart black suit, with slicked back hair and a microphone, stared into the camera as he spoke, so completely focused on reporting the news that he didn’t realize he was about to become it.
Across the sky streaked a ball of light; they had dwindled in numbers now but they continued to pepper the night sky sporadically, like shooting stars. However, unlike any shooting star she had ever seen this one crashed to earth, a mere few feet from where the man stood, with an almighty bang, black smoke rising into the air. Instead of clearing, the smoke rose up, curling into a tight ball which suddenly shot towards the stunned man, who uttered a cry of alarm. Slamming into him, the ball began to unravel like a ball of yarn, curling tendrils around the man in a deadly embrace before reaching one long black tentacle into his gaping mouth. Finding the open cavern, it disappeared inside, taking the rest of the smoke with it.
Shrieking, the man fell to the ground, his body writhing on the concrete sidewalk as he clawed at his own face, his head thrashing from side to side like a man possessed. From behind the camera someone shouted for help as another man rushed over, crouching down beside him, hands attempting to hold his head still as he continued to twist and turn and howl. Suddenly the reporter’s limbs went limp and he fell silent.
“I think he’s dead,” the man beside the reporter looked up, his eyes wide with panic. A moment later the reporter’s eyes snapped open, but there was no longer anything human in their depths.
Grabbing the man by the throat in a lightning fast move which made Darcy jump, lifting a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry as Hope gripped her arm tighter, he ripped out the other man’s trachea before he even had time to scream. And then those empty white eyes fixed on the camera.
The screen went blank as the camera dropped to the floor, presumably as the cameraman scarpered. Darcy hoped he escaped. When the screen remained black after several minute, Alec turned it off with a faint click as they all stood in dazed silence.
A hiss infiltrated the quiet and they all looked around, all eyes fixing on Alec’s dad as he stood in the kitchen, beer can in hand and the fridge door open. Froth bubbled up from the opening and he slurped it off, before chugging it down.
“I don’t think this is the time,” Alec snapped.
“Zombie’s are taking over the world,” the other man sneered, “it’s the perfect time.” Glancing over at Alec, she could see the anger rising; he was confused and scared the same as all of them and his dad was the only person he felt he could strike out at. Stalking across the room, he knocked the beer from his hand onto the floor, where amber liquid gushed out to seep into the lino.
“What the hell you doin’, boy!”
“You being blind drunk doesn’t help anyone,” he snarled back, “you always do this, the first sign of trouble and you’re chugging down a beer, or a bottle of whisky. You go on and on about being a soldier but you’re just a coward!”
“Now see here,” his dad yelled, grabbing the front of his shirt and giving him a shake, just like the first time she’d seen him, but this time Alec didn’t back down. They were equally proportioned, but Alec was young, angry and sober, whereas his dad had been trained by the military. The tension in the room pushed out all the oxygen, making it harder to breath as they squared up to one another.
Just when it seemed they would come to blows, a chime, like that of a bell in a wrestling ring, sounded. It took her several moments, in which all eyes flickered to her, to realize that it was coming from her, or rather the handbag which had somehow remained hooked over her shoulder through everything. Grabbing the strap, she yanked it down her arm, her nails scraped over her shoulder leaving red lines, but she barely noticed as she struggled with the zip. Finally managing to undo it with a metallic hiss, she dumped out the contents onto the scarred wooden coffee table in her haste, rummaging through it for her mobile. A neatly folded square of paper fell to the floor – the booking conformation the hotel had emailed her yesterday.
It was Callie on the phone. Darcy felt a staggering surge of relief at the sound of her friend’s voice and her legs trembled so badly that she had to sit down, the sofa sagging beneath her weight.
“Dear God Darcy,” Callie spoke in a panicked rush, “the world has gone crazy. Did you see the news? Where are you? Are you safe?”
“Yes,” her own voice trembled, “Hope and I are at Alec’s. Callie, where are you?”
“In my car, I was at a party when everything started going to hell. I’m on my way home.” At the mention of home, her mind flickered back to the scene that had awaited her at her own house and her stomach clenched painfully.
“Don’t go home,” she said quickly, fear rising inside of her until she couldn’t breathe, “come meet us.”
“I don’t know where Alec lives, the dodgy part of town I assume.”
