Ok, this is the first
part of my main novelette I am writing right now. There is huge amount of stuff
after this, but I’ll be saving it for publishing. Tell me what you think...
The dawn had broken about an hour ago, but it was still dark in this miserable town. It had rained ceaselessly
throughout the night.
The water pouring
down roofs into overflowing blocked
gutters. Spluttering out of grey gargoyle heads and leaking
out of broken
cheap metal piping
onto the streets
and from there,
after swirling, river like in the streets,
picking up flotsam,
slurry and other refuse down into the choked sewers
of the place.
It was dark, filthy and dank down here. Warmer
than above ground,
the decay of all the above inhabitants
waste producing a stinking squalor
heat that permeated
every inch of the place.
It was here the vermin
lived. Like any place where civilisation exists,
there are other creatures that live of the debris.
A natural part of life. Something had happened here however. Something
unnatural. Something that scared the above inhabitants,
it made them fearful to leave there houses for the unknown
tings these abominations
would do.
Nothing is truly visible down here. Not in the faint gloom from the overflow drains
would allow. The things that lived down here had t rely on their scent and the sound of things,
all be it muffled by the dank humid air down here in the depths. But something was crawling out up out of this mess, not visible now, just a shape. It moved with agility towards
one of the countless secret
exits out on to the city.
The view from the cellar
would have been vile if anyone was to see it. But no human eye had befallen it since the fire of the building
above six years ago. Half the street
had been incinerated
due to some accident at the bakery,
or the chemist,
no one knew for sure, those that were blamed
were killed in the fire and the buildings had been left as hollow
shells once everything
had been scavenged.
It was here that the shape emerged.
Out of a collapsed part of the ruined cellar
among the twisted
and warped wood and metal charred beyond
identification. First a sniffling nose testing the area, then out of the shadows
came the rest of the head; a long pointed
muzzle with deep set eye sockets, containing
two veined milky white orbs, both blind and useless
to the creature.
The face, as the rest of its body was covered n scars among rank matted
fur, some crudely
stitched up, others
left to heal and go septic in its contaminated
home. Its stooped
posture was reminiscent
of one of the great apes seen in the zoos of the big cities, or sometimes brought
to town by circus people.
Its front paws had long spindly looking
fingers with a sinewy strength
ending in cracked
iron coloured claws.
And from the base of its spine came a long, dirty,
fleshy tail. A small swarm of sewer rats appeared
with it, scurrying
around and over its fur there small noises a comfort to the beast
After sniffing out the environment
for safety, the thing clambered
up to the ruin above and out onto the street, and shambled along in the downpour, its smaller brethren
trailing behind it like the tail of a stinking
comet.
Where or even how it started was unknown. Perhaps
it was something
that had seeped
in there from the laboratories
under the collage,
it was said they did strange, unnatural
things there; perhaps
it was one of the test subjects
that had escaped
and bread.
They say there were cults among some of the richer merchants,
and possibly even the few aristocrats that lived in or near the town. Was this there doing?
Perhaps it was the old woman, half blind and crazed, who lived in her decrepit
shack on the edge of town, with her garden
of bizarre and misshapen plants
from obscure locals,
each with a name more unpronounceable as the last.
The priests, in their pulpits
said it was the creator
sending this daemon
as punishment for the sinful
ways of the townsfolk, white flecks of spittle spraying
forth and clinging
to his coal black beard as he barked his sermon in a religious
paroxysm to a decreasing flock.
The rumours abounded
in whispered tones throughout the township, sweeping
the folk into a panic.
Any of them could be true, maybe none of them were. One thing was clear to those in command.
Something had to be done. The creatures
had been reported
to attack people
during the day now, and these same reports described
the packs larger
and the beasts
reaching monstrous proportions,
there vile leaders
possessing some kind of sick intelligence.
Hunger was what drove the creature, and he possessed
the knowledge of where to find food. This was why the pack followed
him. It didn’t
mind, there was safety in numbers, and they could see as had he once. There was safety
in numbers...
Those eyes were what he needed more so that day; the rain had cleaned the air of scent, and the noise of it almost deafening.
All it could rely on was memory,
and the chattering
of the rats.
The back of the bakery
usually provided something.
Sure enough, there,
under a slight
overhang behind the place, a small pile of stale waterlogged bread.
The creature groped
for a hunk of the stuff, most of it falling apart in its hand. Its nostrils’ inspected
the food, smelling
the traces of poison. But it was safe; most of the toxic residue
had been washed
away. This wasn’t
even enough to kill a rat. The beast sunk its teeth into the small meal it could find, the water seeping
sponge like from every bite. The rats feasting around
it, squabbling over tiny morsels.
Still half starved
from what little
nourishment the bakers
had provided, the beast lumbered
off in search
for more. Slinking
along side streets,
it came alongside
the canal. The grey, oily waters sliding
against their brick riversides. Then the beast shambled back up another
ally.
Despite the earliness
of the hour usually rendering
this a safe time to scavenge, and the weather
making it even less desirable
for the inhabitants
to leave there homes, it did not make it risk free. There along the same ally that the beast was making
its way down was a child, walking
huddled up against
the rain with his back to the beast. No doubt on some errand
on this bleak,
lightless morning. Neither
had detected the other yet.
The rain fell heavier
than ever. Drilling
into the skull of the beast, reminding
it of times long past and best left forgot.
But it was too late. The creature
could not help but remember
the age before
the sewer, before
the company of its tiny brothers and sisters, before
the warmth, and the smells
of life and death. Back then, there was just it and Them. No smells, save the chemical,
unnatural smells. No contact, save the slicing
and probing of blades and tools. Yes he was hungry now, but at least he lived among the stinking,
living squalor of his friends.
The squeal was sudden and deafening. No amount of rain could mask that, not when right next to the beast’s ear. It had grown careless
in its daydream,
not noticing the rats had fled and it was not until it and the child were walking
side by side that one had seen the other.
Both now in a panic.
The child was paralysed in his fear, only able to scream.
The beast, disoriented
by the noise,
and scared itself,
started to thrash
out in a seizure of alarm. It let out horrific squeals
of dread. Then one of the beast’s
thrashings struck the child’s cheek;
the harsh jagged
claw sank into the soft flesh of the child.
The red blood washed away as soon as it bloomed on his drenched
skin.
Both child and beast knew what had happened, both were muted in shock.
The child had never been cut so deeply, nor seen anything
so hideous, although
he had heard the storeys.
The beast had never harmed
a living creature
before, not like They had done to it.
The child fainted.
His delicate frame splashing the water around
him, the blood mixing with the stream
that the streets
had become. The beast chattering
to itself scurried
of in its panicked state,
trying to work out where it was and how to find the nearest
entrance to the sewer, where it would be safe. Hungry, but safe.
It was now a month since the reports had started The townsfolk were at a loss, not only had the beast(s)
started attacking innocents,
but now with this unprecedented
monsoon devastating there means of living, they needed a solution. The lore masters
of the collages
claimed they knew not what this thing could be, and although
the elected officials
felt they could not trust them, they were forced
to. The few cunning folk left in the city each had a different
seemingly nonsensical answer,
which the same officials assumed
was the ramblings
of those who had had consumed too much of the narcotic
substances that grew in the wild places
near the town. All the priest could do was to preach
a sermon of the great sins of the world and how all must repent, the gleam of his eyes enough to chill all, almost as much as the idea of the beast itself.
A substantial bounty
was to be awarded to whosoever could bring the corpse of the beast to the town hall, one that would have been taken up if it were not for the sheer terror of everyone in the town.
It was three months into the influx.
The town’s activity
had ground almost
to a standstill.
People were too afraid to leave there houses for fear of the beast.
A curfew had been set, giving those who wished
to walk the streets only five hours to do so. Traders
stopped visiting the town, as the hysteria
meant there were none to trade with. The grain store was depleting, and the people
were starving and desperate.
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