[crackdaddy]

Everything is black.

Someone is screaming.

It’s black because my eyes are shut, but I’m not ready to open them yet. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet and I really just want fifteen more minutes of sleep in before I have to get ready for school.
Someone screams again.
It’s got to be one of those kids down the street. They never shut up.

Shut up kid.

The sounds of gunfire and yelling slowly drift into my sleepy brain.

Well that explains the screaming too I guess.

Dad must have woken up early and started watching some war movie on TV. Doesn’t he realize he’s living with other people? He must have really cranked that puppy up too. The television is downstairs but it sounds as if it’s coming from right outside my bedroom door.

Screw these thin walls. I just want to sleep.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!
A gun fires right beside my head, almost shattering my eardrums.

My eyelids fly open, but my brain takes a second longer to process what those eyes are seeing.
I’m sitting in the middle of a city street. At least it used to be a city street. Piles of rubble and broken glass litter the cracked pavement. Flames roar from under the hood of an SUV. The acrid smoke wafts in my direction, stinging my eyes.
The smells of burning plastic and gunpowder invade my nose.
Charred buildings rise up on both sides of the street. They have an empty, war torn look. Several have collapsed completely, spilling chunks of concrete and twisted steel beams halfway across the street.

Men in ragged uniforms are everywhere, taking cover behind anything larger than a watermelon, shouting orders at each other.

I have awakened in the middle of a war zone.

How could this happen?

Splinters stab painfully into my back. A fist sized chunk of rock is digging into my tailbone. I shift slightly and turn my head to try to get a glimpse of what’s behind me.
I’m sitting against half of a large oak desk.
It must have fallen out of an office above me.

This has to be a dream.

But it feels so real.

There’s no way it can be real.

Why not?

Then I hear it.

A cry splits the air. An inhuman scream that came from behind the desk, farther down the street.

Fear

Fear cuts through me like a knife. That sounded like it should never be heard by human ears.

Another cry answers it, then a third; a mix between a black panther’s roar and the shrill, piercing scream of a child.
Keeping my head low, I scramble onto my knee’s and faced the desk.
Slowly, my heart beating so fast it feels like it’s about to explode, I raise my head up higher until I can peek over the top.

The street must go on for a mile, straight as an arrow. Countless cars and other debris create a maze of metal and scorched concrete. Fires rage. Smoke creates a haze which makes it difficult to clearly see very far down the road.

Things are running out of this haze, running towards me with huge, loping strides. They are slumped forward as they run, like a person trying to walk with their knuckles gorilla-style, but whose arms aren’t long enough.

Things

I want to say its people that are running out of the smoke, but I just can’t. Fear like I’ve never felt before is paralyzing all thought.

They’re things.

They’re things and they’re covering ground extremely fast, weaving around fires and clambering over cars.
Ten at first, then twenty, then a hundred.
Some are running with guns, and they’re firing wildly, just spraying bullets.

One thing launches itself into the air and lands on the roof of a van. He opens his mouth and lets out that unearthly scream. It is echoed by the hundreds streaming by below him, filling the air like the thunder of a waterfall.

Battle cries

Suddenly, a bullet tears through the desk a foot away from my head, startling me out of my stupor.
I duck back down as more lead whistles by above my head.

“Keep your head down kid!” shouts a voice behind me.

I look back at the men on my side, searching for the speaker.

My side? I just appeared here. Why do I think they’re on my side?

Men are taking cover wherever they can. Most are shooting out of doorways or standing behind cars. I can’t tell who shouted at me, but as I look around my heart sinks.

There can’t be more than fifty people out here.

We’re all dead.

The two men closest to me are about a hundred feet away. They’re standing in a half crouch behind the flaming SUV, peeking around it and firing short bursts from their automatic rifles. One of them is wearing a helmet, but the other one must have lost his somewhere.

I risk another glance back over the desk.

I have fifteen seconds to live.

Please be a dream.

You are not dreaming

I look back toward the SUV. I need to get their attention.
I need to get over to them.
I start to get up.

Three bullet holes appear in the front windshield and simultaneously the rear windshield shatters.

Both men crouch lower instinctively as the glass explodes out above their heads. The one without the helmet cries out as the glass showers down onto his head. His face distorts with pain. He puts his hand up to his orange hair and pulls it away covered in blood.

“Medic! We need a medic over here!” yells the man with the helmet. He drops his rifle and presses a dirt covered rag against his comrade’s head.

The orange haired man pushes the hand away and raises his rifle again.

“There’s no time now! I’ll make it. I’m going to be okay…”

The SUV explodes.

The explosion shakes the ground, flinging shrapnel in all directions. The shockwave punches me in the face, throwing me back into the desk. My neck and face blister from the heat.
All I can feel is the heat.
I taste the fire.

There’s some sort of pressure on my shoulder. My mind is in a haze, as if everything’s moving too fast and me too slow.

The Things are coming

I have to get away. I have to get away now.
I try to get up, to run, to crawl, to do something, but I can’t move away from the desk.
I look down and see the smoking metal bar sticking out of my shoulder. I am pinned to the desk. Blood pours down the front of my shirt. Darkness creeps in the edges of my vision.

A shadow passes over me.

A Thing leaps over the desk, landing in mid stride right in front of me. He doesn’t even bother to look back. Neither does the next one, or the next.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and none of them will see me

The next one trips on the desk and lands on me.

It lashes out spastically, flailing all four limbs like a crazed spider monkey as it struggles to get back onto its feet. It is shrieking, more in anger or frustration than pain. It finally gets up onto two feet and only now seems to notice me. It stops moving and stares.

I stare back.

It looks like a human, yet completely alien at the same time. Something about it seems inherently…evil.

Like a demon’s attempt at humanity

Every muscle sticks out, every sinew completely visible, as if its skin is paper thin. The skin itself looks rotted. It is a dark blackish blue, like a bad bruise, but all over its body. A waving black tentacle sticks out from the back of each forearm.
As it looks at me the tentacles pick up and wave in my direction, as if they’re sniffing me.
I feel nauseous.

The face is the worst part though.
On one side the cheek bone sticks out through the skin, bleached white as if it had been uncovered for awhile. It is a stark contrast to the black of the skin There is no nose.

The eyes

The eyes are completely black. No pupils, no whiteness, just black balls in the sockets. Yet I can tell they are looking at me, searching me.

This thing is not an animal. I can tell it is contemplating me behind those voids of eyes. The veins in the face glow like blue fire through the skin.

Darkfire

The word is suddenly in my mind.

It opens its lipless mouth and leans in. I can see pieces of rotting meat stuck on the razor sharp teeth, they are stained red.

It opens its mouth wider and speaks to me.

[RENA HANDS]

On a superficial look I state “watch your spacing.” It makes for a difficult read at least for me when I cannot differentiate between paragraphs and one sentence.

I think it should be…

Slowly, my heart beats(and not beating).

Or say something like…Slowly, my heart accelerates detonating like an imploding grenade…

This was a dream or hallucination? Either way the details could have been more dramatic and less abruptly written. Repeating again, correct or for future reference watch the spacing.

[Mickey]

This is really good. I liked it. Especially the description and creativity of the creatures.

[timtornado3721]

Whoah, that's all I got. From the moment the main character opens his eyes the reader is required to hold their mouth shut because it just keeps falling onto their keyboard. The description and narration flows smoothly and accomplishes exactly what you, the author, wants us, the readers, to see and feel as cars explode and as a alien/monster comes up close face to face with the main character.