alone. Please leave me alone.”
“Not my master: the master.”
“Leave me ALONE!”
The smile disappeared from Bert’s face and his lips drew back with malice, “You will join us.” He turned to the door through which he’d entered; it flew open.
Other workers in the office became suddenly aware of the presence amongst them as a hoard of the spider-like creatures from the abyss came flooding into the room, the creatures with human arms and dripping red skulls; and started to rip them apart.
It was a bloodbath.
Iain watched helplessly as his co-workers were torn limb from limb; stood silent as Jim, an OK kind of guy, had his eyes eaten. Michelle screamed, and as she did, one of the bloodied red arms reached into her mouth, forcing it open even wider than it already was. Down the hand went, further, past her throat until the spider was sitting on her face. After finding some handhold in her gullet, it jumped, pulling her intestines back past her lips, where they flopped onto the floor.
All the while, Bertie was smiling.
Iain woke covered in a cold sweat. An even damper, if warmer patch moistened his midriff. He groaned; his hand throbbed. Looking down at it he saw the tea towel was stained red. There was blood on the sheets as well as his piss. He winced as he removed the makeshift bandage, the fibres sticking to the cut. His hand oozed pink liquid; that was until he tried flexing his fingers and it opened back up, the blood once again flowing freely.
Chapter Fifteen
Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s off to work we go!
Rain pelted the outside of the window, drumming loudly on the glass. It was still to get fully light outside and Iain glanced at the clock. Five AM and the alarm was yet to sound. Iain groaned. Yet again he wasn’t going to make it into work and another long journey to hospital beckoned, this time to repair his damaged hand.
By the time he worked himself up to leaving the house and had his thick coat on, it was six am and the buses had started to run. Arriving at the emergency department in good time, he saw no need to rush; he had all day; again. Standing on the steps just outside the hospital’s main entrance, he lit a cigarette. He didn’t know when the opportunity may arise for another, it depended how busy they were he supposed.
An ambulance pulled up nearby outside the next set of doors, lights still flashing. He watched as the paramedics hurriedly pulled out the trolley. The patient was a mess, even from a distance Iain could see red in between the yellow blocks of the neck brace. He thought he must have looked like that when he arrived and shuddered.
He knew that she didn’t really move but Iain saw the victim sit upright on the stretcher and look at him, arm outstretched as if reaching for his hand, pleading. Not able to look away he met her eye, the only one he could see. One side of the victim’s face was caved in, leaving a gory mess where the other should have been. Iain noticed she appeared in the same muted colours as other ‘ghosts’ he’d seen and knew instinctively that she hadn’t, or wouldn’t survive. And then she was gone, through the doors and into the hospital to be seen by awaiting doctors and nurses.
His cigarette had burned all the way down, he was sure he’d smoked it but couldn’t remember. He lit another and made sure he finished every last bit before entering.
There was only one other person in the waiting room, good, I shouldn’t be too long he thought to himself as he went to the desk and gave his details to the woman there. Taking a seat, he looked up at the electronic display. The red, scrolling digital letters read, ‘APPROX WAITING TIME : THREE HOURS’. He sighed.
Ten minutes later, he was called through to a small room where someone took a quick look at his hand before sending him back to the waiting room. There he waited, and waited. The waiting only punctuated by toilet breaks. He was becoming thirsty but the vending machine cost a pound for a
“Not my master: the master.”
“Leave me ALONE!”
The smile disappeared from Bert’s face and his lips drew back with malice, “You will join us.” He turned to the door through which he’d entered; it flew open.
Other workers in the office became suddenly aware of the presence amongst them as a hoard of the spider-like creatures from the abyss came flooding into the room, the creatures with human arms and dripping red skulls; and started to rip them apart.
It was a bloodbath.
Iain watched helplessly as his co-workers were torn limb from limb; stood silent as Jim, an OK kind of guy, had his eyes eaten. Michelle screamed, and as she did, one of the bloodied red arms reached into her mouth, forcing it open even wider than it already was. Down the hand went, further, past her throat until the spider was sitting on her face. After finding some handhold in her gullet, it jumped, pulling her intestines back past her lips, where they flopped onto the floor.
All the while, Bertie was smiling.
Iain woke covered in a cold sweat. An even damper, if warmer patch moistened his midriff. He groaned; his hand throbbed. Looking down at it he saw the tea towel was stained red. There was blood on the sheets as well as his piss. He winced as he removed the makeshift bandage, the fibres sticking to the cut. His hand oozed pink liquid; that was until he tried flexing his fingers and it opened back up, the blood once again flowing freely.
Chapter Fifteen
Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s off to work we go!
Rain pelted the outside of the window, drumming loudly on the glass. It was still to get fully light outside and Iain glanced at the clock. Five AM and the alarm was yet to sound. Iain groaned. Yet again he wasn’t going to make it into work and another long journey to hospital beckoned, this time to repair his damaged hand.
By the time he worked himself up to leaving the house and had his thick coat on, it was six am and the buses had started to run. Arriving at the emergency department in good time, he saw no need to rush; he had all day; again. Standing on the steps just outside the hospital’s main entrance, he lit a cigarette. He didn’t know when the opportunity may arise for another, it depended how busy they were he supposed.
An ambulance pulled up nearby outside the next set of doors, lights still flashing. He watched as the paramedics hurriedly pulled out the trolley. The patient was a mess, even from a distance Iain could see red in between the yellow blocks of the neck brace. He thought he must have looked like that when he arrived and shuddered.
He knew that she didn’t really move but Iain saw the victim sit upright on the stretcher and look at him, arm outstretched as if reaching for his hand, pleading. Not able to look away he met her eye, the only one he could see. One side of the victim’s face was caved in, leaving a gory mess where the other should have been. Iain noticed she appeared in the same muted colours as other ‘ghosts’ he’d seen and knew instinctively that she hadn’t, or wouldn’t survive. And then she was gone, through the doors and into the hospital to be seen by awaiting doctors and nurses.
His cigarette had burned all the way down, he was sure he’d smoked it but couldn’t remember. He lit another and made sure he finished every last bit before entering.
There was only one other person in the waiting room, good, I shouldn’t be too long he thought to himself as he went to the desk and gave his details to the woman there. Taking a seat, he looked up at the electronic display. The red, scrolling digital letters read, ‘APPROX WAITING TIME : THREE HOURS’. He sighed.
Ten minutes later, he was called through to a small room where someone took a quick look at his hand before sending him back to the waiting room. There he waited, and waited. The waiting only punctuated by toilet breaks. He was becoming thirsty but the vending machine cost a pound for a
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