The Horror with a Thousand Mouths
April 15, 2013
Jack arrived at the haunted high rise just as the sun had set. After checking his gear, he let his duffel bag ride on his right shoulder while his axe rested in a sling over his left. His new sledge filled his hands as he walked toward the front door like he owned the place.
The building groaned a warning, which sounded like a thousand dead souls trapped within dark coffins. When this was ignored, a frigid wind crashed against him. It slowed his pace only slightly and when he drew within twenty feet of the door, Jack pulled a Thor and sent the hammer flying at the glass.
A foot shy from contact, something deflected the blow, but this action also caused the wind to cease.
So their power isn’t unlimited and they need to focus on one thing at a time, he mused silently.
Then aloud he said, “What’s the matter? Scared of letting me in. I figured as much. I guess you creeps are smart enough to see your doom when it comes for you.”
A harsh series of rattling cries sounded. An angry scream followed and then the door slowly creaked open. Jack wasn’t sure if he should feel unnerved or pleased that he was able to manipulate them so easily. Either way, it didn’t deter him from snatching up his hammer and heading into the Stygian apartment.
Nothing opposed him for a few yards, but as he left the streets behind him, the doors slammed shut with a dull clang and what little light there had been was extinguished. He paused long enough to pull three flares out of his bag. One went into his jacket, next to his throwing knives, while the other two were lt. The first one he sent bouncing down the corridor, the second filled his left hand.
After throwing the duffle back over his shoulder, he froze. Not forty feet ahead of him, a young raven haired girl, in a dirty night robe, hovered near the ceiling. Her long black locks obscured her face and she wavered strangely, like her presence distorted normal reality.
“Making me fight little girls now,” Jack grumbled under his breath, but he found the sight foreboding enough that a big part of him struggled against leaving. I already rescued my mother… what do the rest of these people matter? Most likely they’re all already dead and corrupted. I should just leave…
“Screw you,” he growled. “Get out of my head!”
“Soon you will have no head,” the girl called down to him in a voice that sent shivers down his spine. “But first you will have no fingers, then no hands, then no legs.” She flew at him, moving quicker than he would have imagined. “And that’s when we’ll start to PLAY!”
“Fangs of Yig,” he yelled as he brought up his hammer. A different man might have held back against a young girl, but Jack new better and batted the apparition away from him with a mighty blow.
She collided against the stairs, but leapt onto all fours in moments. Like a crazy canine, she raced at him. “I’ll eat your soul. I’LL EAT YOUR SOUL!”
“You’ll eat this first,” Jack said, and then swung his hammer upward hitting her square in the jaw. A resounding crack echoed through the barren hallway as both the Xemmoni’s jaw and neck shattered.
She struggling despite her life ending injuries and manic fingers clawed his legs while the limp necked head flopped at him trying to land a bite.
“You pukes are sick,” he said through gritted teeth and set himself to breaking her body. Foul crunches and loud snapping filled his ears. At one point, the Xemmoni made her cry like the little girl she could have been, but that only made Jack swing his hammer harder so the wailing would stop. Soon, a crashed, but yet still flailing body moved under him.
“You bastards are going to pay long and hard for this.”
But then it started again. The rumbling he had heard before. Like thousands of severed body parts slapping against stone. It came from the basement. It came for him. The last time he had run, but he came here to finish this, but how could he hope to fight something so huge, so massive?
Every nerve told him to flee. Run to the street—forget he had ever heard of this place.
And turn to flee his did, but instead of running through the doors, he headed up the stairwell he had taken before.
If they want me, they’re going to have to earn it.
To be continued next Monday