Something Bad

“ Highway 3 is reportedly getting increasingly unsafe for vehicles, as a band of robbers is supposed to be operating on it and several others as well. The police have –“

“ – Cause the lies become the truth. Hey, hey, hey, Billie- “

“ – There is no pain, you are receding- “

“ – has been found that the building certainly had something by way of paranormal activity going on in it. Investigators suggest that any entity- “

    The man abruptly turned off the radio in rebellious disgust. Driving alone on such a bleak highway was bad in itself, and he didn’t want to add the misery of listening to news as depressing as that. He had driven down many such roads on even stormy nights, and had never had any fear of being attacked. He knew that more than half of what the newsmongers said was purest fiction. But even the music didn’t seem to alleviate that weird solitude which was only too natural on such an occasion.

    He suddenly became aware of a storm gathering, for the moonless night was suddenly lit up by an enormous jagged fork of lightning, the following clap of thunder pervading his senses.

    Another flash soon met his eyes, but not of lightning. In the little rear view mirror appeared the headlights of a trailing car. He could somehow make out the indistinct silhouettes of two rather broad-shouldered individuals. The one to the right snaked his head out of the window and raised his dangling arm. Soon, there were some holes in both screens of the vehicle, and one in his left shoulder. It felt as if a white hot metal rod had been pressed against his innards, and blood flowed freely. The newsmen, for once, had been exceedingly, painfully honest.

    The rest was all a bizarre haze, much like a very displeasing half-memory of a nightmare. His whole frame felt like a stiff block of pulsating agony, refusing to yield. He somehow managed to push the speed up, driving towards nothing. He had a dim idea that perhaps he was still being pursued, or perhaps they had given up. But he was taking no risks. He must get to town.

    He little knew when the fuel meter had plummeted towards the E mark! He wouldn’t make it! Very ill, fading, asphyxiating, he sought the world outside the car, however terrible. The last memory was that of opening the door of the running vehicle and…

    Rain fell. He opened his eyes to frigid beads rushing down to meet him. A sizzling arc of lightning cut across the firmament, revealing the torrents. He started, and found upon crawling up, that he had lain, muddied and very wounded all over, in a barren field. His car was nowhere to be found.

    Shivering, weak, and feeling horribly faint, he somehow pulled himself onto all fours, gritting his teeth against the pain. In the distance, a flash of lightning helped him discern a house, its black form looming large, like a sudden mountain in a river plain. All his hopes lay there. Much enthused, he dragged himself together as he could, and shambled totteringly towards it. The house, two-storied, was nearer than he thought, much to his relief. Upon reaching it, he found it in complete darkness. The ramshackle door, however, remained alluringly ajar.

    Stumbling into the dark ante-room, he called out, but to no avail. Taking some steps forward, he tripped hard against something, but fell, as it seemed, on a heap of whitish bedding, or perhaps linen, tangled strangely together to form what he thought some sort of hammock. He sank into it, nestling wearily, and pulled the weavings like a blanket to himself. They wrapped around with unexpected ease.

    There was a vile stench, which he noticed at length. No matter how tired he was, it prevented his sleep. There was a creaking noise somewhere, and as it drew closer, he tried to lift himself up, only to find himself smothered by the mesh. A wild fear suddenly consumed him; he knew that something was not as it should be. Amidst his struggles, he thought he saw a couple of round lights approaching, and yelled for assistance. They drew closer, softly illumining his surroundings. Ceasing his fight, he noticed someone lying beside him, wrapped like a mummy. The excoriated face was scarcely even that of a corpse. Only a single eye hung from its socket, a reminder that it had once been human. He tried to shout, but was stifled. Somehow rolling and twisting around with panicking force, he came face to face with the pair of white orbs. His eardrums were rent by a thousand clicking and buzzing noises which emerged from between the lights, a large, mephitic gap which was evidently a mouth. His final scream was muffled by the gagging constraints. The lights went out.