Below you will find a scene selection from the Novella I have written called “Roadkill” that I have recently submitted to a publisher for consideration. It is basically about a family man dealing with a fatal encounter in the middle of snowstorm and the aftermath of that as he tries to protect and save his family from a maelevolent creature bent on making his life hell. Enjoy.
The thing had waited long enough, suffered long enough. There needed to be balance, balance, always balance, for balance was life.
It crouched in the snow. The snow had fallen in a flurry all around it while it had crouched and waited. The cold had come as the night had grown deeper and still more snow came and the wind howled in the trees around it and still it had crouched and waited. What was snow? What was cold? They were dead things while it was very much alive.
Looking up from its vantage in the back yard of their home it had seen that the last of the lights had died inside the house sometime ago and knew that they all slept. All was quiet. Quiet was good. It released itself from its crouch for it was time to retrieve the female. It moved to the front.
The garage was dark where Elisa’s car and Adrian’s truck were parked. The wind and snow beat against the big garage door wanting to get inside. It wanted inside as well but it knew the rules. Rules more ancient than what it was, but remembered none-the-less. It knew the rules could always be twisted and bent however. In its own way it was already inside so no rules need apply. The female would come to it when it was all done and they would leave together. Already it was beginning to itch. It couldn’t remember the last time it had itched. It would lose itself before too long and go the way of all the others. The balance had to be restored and soon if it itched already. But the rules must always be obeyed lest it forfeit everything. It had lived too long to forget that. It reached out its mind to inside the garage and the bounce back came, weak but there. Enough it thought, enough to do what needed to be done.
The lid to the garbage bin in the garage shifted upward slightly then lifted as if pushed from something inside. The lid lifted more almost to an inch high crack .The crusted and bloodied mottled gray dead flap of skin slid out and dropped to the floor of the garage. It moved along the floor of the garage in the dark in slow inchworm like movements towards the inner door to the house. It had no trouble in manipulating the concrete step that led up to the door for it just slid up the vertical side of the step like a snail would and proceeded on. It moved along the threshold of the door pushing and probing into the crack. It found a place seven inches from the doorframe that let its form fit into it just barely. It oozed under the opening and slipped inside the darkened house. It needed no eyes to see, for it was a puppet doing its master’s bidding who saw everything, even in death as it held onto the last bit of life in the cells that dwelled in the dead flap of skin it served.
It was slow going but it reached the top of the landing on the floor where they all slept. It must hurry for it knew its time was drawing to a close. It inched up to the room of the parents. The door was shut. It sensed heavy breathing from that of a deep sleep coming from the room. It could enter if it wished easily and unheard. The opening at the bottom was even wider on this door. But it continued on to the child’s room for it wanted the small female not the other.
The door to the child’s room was wide open. A small nightlight plugged into an outlet near the floor gave off a very faint blue glow to light the room. It entered. It sensed two presences, the child and an animal. There was an animal with her. The animal had not sensed it yet. Good. It would take care of the animal. It crawled up at the foot of the bed. The child’s breathing was deep as well. The animal lay across the girl’s chest deep asleep, twitching every once in while on top of her. All it needed was contact then it would be over. One of the girl’s arms lay on the outside over her blanket with her hand down at her side.
It sprung. It fell against the top of her and pressed itself down onto her skin. Nerve endings responded while neural transmitters fired throughout the little girl’s body. Her back arched up from her bed as she slept. A small moan escaped her lips as if she was in pain. It continued to do its work on her as it was bided to do. It was re-mapping her, not fully, no not fully at all. The mapping would not hold but it would enough for now. It was almost dead itself and only a shell of its former self but it would give what it could. Suddenly it was being attacked, being bitten by the creature that had been lying on the little girl. It felt no pain as the creature bit into its dead flesh. It felt nothing. It was done. Its job was over. The little girl ceased in her moaning and contortions and settled down in her bed. The flap of skin came away dead, held in the cat’s mouth. Tonks flung it to the floor.
Tonks looked down towards the floor from where it laid and eyed the flap of skin, not trusting it to not move again. Tonks sniffed the air and didn’t like what he smelled. Suddenly the little girl raised herself up from her bed bent at the waist and looked around the room. Tonks looked over thoughtfully at her with its big green eyes and then looked down at the flap of skin again as if trying to say, “Hey look at my prize I killed for you”. Sylvia reached out as if to pet Tonks on the head but instead wrapped him tight around his neck with her little fingers and flung him across the room to hit the far wall hard and slide down it. Tonks didn’t stir or utter a noise from where he had landed. All was quiet