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[Cryoverse] The Last Precursor 025: Knife In The Dark

The Last Precursor is an HFY-exclusive web-serial which focuses on the exploits of the last living human amidst a galaxy of unknown aliens. With his species all but extinct and now only known as the ancient Precursors, how will Admiral José Rodriguez survive in this hostile universe? Make sure to read the earlier chapters first if you missed them!
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Previous Part
Part 001
The party of five rescuers descends into the depths of the mountain. José leads the way, his nine-foot-tall body towering above all the others around him. Megla falls into stride on his right, while Baaru and Ruuki walk on his left, with Lele sandwiched between them.
The darkness of the cave swallows them within minutes, making the previously blinding brightness of the outside fade like a distant memory. Before the gloom can completely shroud their forms, a most peculiar sight unfolds. José's skin rapidly begins to shimmer and shine, turning his whole body into a 200-watt lightbulb. Megla winces as she looks at the Admiral in shock.
"W-what? Is this magic?"
José gently smiles. "No. I have countless nanites swimming within my body. I had a small portion of them alter my biochemical properties to temporarily turn me into a light in the dark. It's nothing special. Any sufficiently advanced species could accomplish this, it just requires one to think of the method."
The Admiral and his first officer Kraktol both hold large, 1.5-feet long energy rifles close to their chests. Megla clutches hers tightly, as if she's afraid of dropping it in a moment of surprise, while José casually points the barrel of his at the ground. He exercises good trigger discipline by keeping his fingers away from the gun's trigger, but says nothing when Megla nervously does the opposite.
Megla swallows heavily. "You Terrans are... strange."
Admiral Rodriguez flicks his eyes around the caverns, observing the jagged, uneven surfaces as they walk. Razor-sharp rocks stick out of the ground, threatening to trip anyone unobservant enough to miss their existence, yet not a single member of his party stumbles even the slightest. They walk both quickly and cautiously, evading the natural traps as they proceed.
"And you're awfully jumpy," José replies. "You took out those Xonbils with ease, yet now you look like you're about to wet yourself."
Megla's yellow scales flush orange with embarrassment. "I... I'm a little bit afraid of the dark."
Guiltily, she looks up at José, only to scowl when she observes his suppressed smile. "...You! Don't laugh! It's humiliating! I-I can't help being a little nervous!"
"Haha, it's not that," José chuckles, as he looks away. His eyes shift color and become deep blue as he allows the nanites in his body to pierce the dense gloom ahead. "It's just, I had a buddy in the military... more of a blood-brother, really. Nicholai Azaram. Great guy, and my best friend. We worked together on countless missions. We crossed dimensions, traveled through time, toppled star nations... you name it."
The Admiral continues. "Nicholai was a monster. A peerless genius in the art of combat. Compared to him, I'm not even worth mentioning in the same breath. But... haha... well, he also started getting trigger-happy when he stepped into the dark. Funniest thing ever."
Slowly, José's smile fades. A deep look of sadness takes its place, as his eyes become distant. "My best friend. Can't ever see him again. His body disintegrated right in front of me. Never even got to say goodbye."
Startled, Megla observes the look of deep melancholy on José's face for a few moments without replying.
She turns her head forward and stares into the darkness. "I'm sorry, Admiral. That must have been hard on you."
"Yes. An understatement, to say the least," José says, his expression returning to its usual stoicness. "I'd have cut my own heart out if it meant I could save my brother. I loved him more than I loved myself."
Megla's throat turns dry. "I... ah, why don't you tell me more about Nicholai? I'd like to know more about this person who was so important to you."
Half-expecting José to turn down her request due to the pain in his heart, Megla shakes her head inwardly. She knows with only a glance that the bond between José and Nicholai must have been ten times, if not ten thousand times deeper than between her and Soren.
However, José surprises her. After a minute of contemplation, he opens his mouth.
"Nicky and I weren't just close. We shared everything. He knew all my insecurities. All my weaknesses. In turn, I knew everything about him. He was a giant, more than a foot taller than me. Even among Terrans, he was not someone you could fight without losing a part of your life."
José glances at Megla meaningfully. "When I defeated the Gate Troll, do you remember what I said?"
She nods. "You said Private Azaram came up with the method to defeat it. The... the special technique."
The Kraktol's expression turns ghastly as she remembers the horrifying sight of José plunging his arm elbow-deep inside the monster's anal cavities. Her scales shudder as she looks away, trying desperately to contain her stomach.
However, José doesn't tease her. He simply nods and sighs. "Yes. I also said that, compared to other Terrans, especially Ramma's Chosen, I was only a bit above average. But Nicky... haha."
The Admiral's pupils dilate slightly. "Nicky-boy wasn't like me. He was a god of war. His strength sundered mountains. His willpower could split the seas. There wasn't a woman he couldn't bed, nor would he turn them down. His charisma... his charm. Everything about that man was a thousand times better than me."
"Were you jealous of his talent?" Megla asks.
"No. Not even a little. He wasn't just my brother, but my idol. I looked up to him more than Ramma or the God Emperor himself."
The Kessu walk beside José in silence. None of them say a word, and instead choose to listen in on José's conversation with Megla. They gaze up at their savior, feeling a deep sense of remorse emanating from his soul.
"What did he look like?" Megla asks. She subconsciously relaxes her grip on her weapon, as she tries to picture Nicholai's appearance in her mind. "You're the only Terran I've seen, so..."
"I can create a holo-projection when we return," José says, his voice shaking slightly. "But... I don't know if I could bear to look at him standing before me. Not even if he's only a projection."
"You don't need to go that far," Megla hurriedly replies. "Just a general description. I know he was bigger than you. What else?"
Nodding, José gestures toward the Kessu on his left. "In this galaxy, the various species often have very distinct appearances. Differently colored fur, scales, body builds... and so on. Humans weren't quite like that. The most obvious thing you would notice if you placed me next to Nick, aside from his height, was his skin color."
"He had pitch-black skin," José says. "Like the color of obsidian. His expression was always relaxed and casual. He'd laugh at any joke and make the person telling it feel like they were the center of the universe. He had a... a big, pointy chin. Full head of black hair, thicker than mine."
The Admiral frowns. "Thin lips. Um... his nose was a big bigger than mine, too. His eyes were bottomless, as if he could read your mind with a single look. However, he wasn't perfect. Nick had plenty of flaws."
"Well, that's a relief," Megla says, forcing a smile. "I'm having trouble thinking of a being more impressive than you. It's difficult to imagine you Terrans as anything but sky-shattering monsters."
José pauses. He looks at Megla meaningfully. "When I fought Orgon aboard the Dragon's Breath... he stated that he was the strongest Kraktol among the fleet. Was he telling the truth?"
Caught off-guard by José's question, Megla stumbles over a rock in her path and quickly turns to look at him. "Orgon? Uh, yes? Why do you ask?"
"Don't be alarmed. It's just a question," José laughs. "You see... one of the reasons Terrans eventually conquered the galaxy was due to how we organized our militaries. If you were to follow our example... the Kraktol empire would expand at lightspeed and quickly become capable of stomping other sentients into the mud."
The Admiral says such words with incredible confidence, making Megla instinctively believe him. "Really? What do you mean? What made your military so scary, then?"
"The Kraktol follow a standard organizational structure, one my people formerly used," José explains. "Your best warriors rise through the ranks and become battlefield commanders. Terrans followed the same path, up until the moment we faced the deadliest enemy of our existence... the Volgrim. I know you don't think much of your smarts, Megla, but think for a moment and tell me... doesn't this sort of organizational structure have a deep, inherent flaw?"
Megla barely takes a second to react. "Y-yes. How strange, Admiral. How very strange... I've had such a thought many times before."
"You have?"
José blinks, then turns to Megla with a deep look in his eyes. "I underestimated you. Go on, then. Describe the flaw for me."
"Well..." Megla replies, suddenly feeling awkward beneath José's gaze. "...I've always thought it was odd that, with enemies on all sides, we would take our best combatants off the battlefield and put them into leadership positions. This robs our military of its mightiest soldiers. In theory, it's a good idea to reward those who accomplish the most incredible feats, but if it means losing a talented sniper, soldier, or frontliner... the cost seems incredibly steep."
"You're exactly right," José says, slowly nodding. "Terrans used to do the same thing. However, once we faced the Volgrim, we realized we needed super-soldiers, bred for combat, to take the frontlines."
He continues. "I'm well over 7,000 years old, assuming you exclude my time spent in stasis. I've accomplished countless feats on behalf of my military. Likewise, the same was true of my blood-brother, Nicky-boy. However, not once were we offered or did we desire to obtain the positions of monarchs and rulers. Instead, Terran soldiers fought until their combat capabilities reached a plateau. Once they started seeing a decline, they would step down and assume the roles of military leaders. This way, not only did we keep the most prime, fearsome, unstoppable warriors on the battlefield, but our commanders would also end up as seasoned, grizzled veterans."
"We would become peerless in the art of war," He adds. "Every soldier respected and trusted their commanders... because in the end, we knew that not only did they know more than us, but they had done what we did for many times longer. It created an unshakable bedrock of trust and stability among our militaries, one which eventually shook the heavens and allowed us to step over the bodies of our mightiest enemies."
José reaches over and squeezes Megla's shoulder. "If you want to become stronger... make a change within yourself. Don't strive to advance your political career, nor your prestige in the eyes of others. Focus entirely on your self-advancement. In time, you will become unrivaled beneath the heavens... just like my brother once was."
Megla nods. "I'll do that."
The Terran retracts his hand, then slows to a stop. In front of his eyes, a holographic map hovers in midair, created by the nanites inside his body. The caves up ahead shimmer and shine, as easy for him to see as if there were a sun blazing in the underground confines.
However, the holographic map hisses and sputters, making him narrow his eyes.
[Admiral,] Umi says, at exactly that moment. [You are about to reach the limits of my scanning capabilities. There are countless micrograms of Trifrancium scattered in the upcoming region. Until this point, I have managed to guide you around the predatory creatures lurking within those caves. However, I am unable to detect any additional life forms, or to map out the path ahead. You will be on your own. Proceed with caution.]
José's head bobs imperceptibly. [Noted. Are you able to get a transporter lock through the interference?]
[Negative. In the event of a catastrophe, I will bombard the mountain from orbit and attempt to teleport you before the caves collapse. However, I will only be able to rescue ten people at most if that happens. Additionally, the odds of successfully obtaining a transporter lock will be statistically insignificant.]
It takes José a few moments of thinking before he replies.
[Alright. I won't underestimate this world. Tarus II used to be home to countless horrific life-forms. It's unlikely the monsters that once lurked in this world's jungles would devolve into timid little rabbits after 100,000,000 years. More likely, they've only grown fiercer. Since I don't know what's up ahead, I will proceed with the utmost caution.]
Admiral Rodriguez reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small, circular object, and slaps it against Megla's chest. The Kraktol female, paying more attention to the sounds in the darkness ahead than her Admiral, nearly jumps out of her skin in fright.
"Gah! W-what in the Thülvik's name are you doing?! You scared the daylights out of me! Don't just suddenly grab me like that!"
With a quiet laugh, José replies, "Haha, sorry. I wasn't trying to startle you. Didn't you notice the present I gave you, just now?"
Megla lowers her long, crocodilian snout, only to spot the palm-sized circular object adhering to the scales on her chest.
"...The heck is this?"
"In the era I came from, it was nothing special," José says, his tone bland. "But in this era... well, it's probably capable of turning you into an invincible god. The Terrans called it a Survival Suit. Press that big red button in the middle and see what happens."
A skeptical look washes across Megla's face, but she doesn't protest. Not once has José shown her the slightest hostility, nor has he ever treated her with contempt or disrespect. Toward him, an intensely deep trust has already appeared within the depths of her heart.
However, she still won't admit that to anyone. "Pft. Survival Suit. Let's check it out, then."
Megla's claw presses the red button on the object's center. Instantly, bursts of electricity explode from its borders, making her pupils shrink to slits. Before she can react, the electrical energy blasts around her body, enveloping her in a dazzling light. Within three seconds, the energy dissipates, forming a faint, transparent force-field that practically adheres to her skin.
"What... what sorcery is this?!" Megla gasps. "It's like I'm... like I'm wearing stretchy glass... or something!"
"Hahaha!" José guffaws, clearly amused by her crude description. "I guess you could call it that! Check this out."
The Admiral bends over, grabs a small rock off the floor and turns toward a nearby wall. His smile vanishes, and an intense look appears in his eyes. He coils his arm back, compresses a massive amount of strength into his arm, and flings the rock at the wall.
The rock strikes with such power and ferocity that a three-meter crater appears in the wall, spraying debris in every direction. The two adult Kessu shriek with fright, while their fur stands on end.
Little Lele, however, jumps excitedly. "Wowie! Wowowow! Big Baldy is awesome! He's so strong!"
Megla stares in disbelief. "That... uh... can I do that too?"
"No, don't be silly," José says indifferently. "You just stand right where you are."
When José bends over and grabs another rock off the ground, Megla's scales turn a ghastly grey. "W-wait, Admiral... I get the point! It's a protective barrier, right? Haha! That's great! You don't n-need to show me-"
"Stand right there," José orders, as he walks twenty paces away. "Don't move."
The Kraktol's scales turn from grey to pure white as all of her blood drains away. "You destroyed that wall! Admiral, please, i-it's not that I don't trust you! I'm sure this suit is really strong, b-but-"
Even with Megla's knees trembling like leaves in the wind, José merely turns to face her, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "Calm down. This won't hurt a bit."
"Please! Admiral! I don't want to die! Not like this!"
Seeing that José isn't about to back down, Megla swallows her terror and holds up her arms to protect her chest and face. She lowers her head and closes her eyes, praying for a swift death. The Kraktol shivers in fear, completely unable to believe that the Admiral's awesome strength won't turn this silly little 'Survival Suit' into shreds.
José once again winds up, coils his arm back, and takes aim.
"Oh no!" José yells. "I think the suit turned off!"
Megla screams in terror. "It did?!"
She raises her head and opens her eyes, only to see José smiling.
"Just kidding."
The moment after he speaks, José hurls the rock with all his strength. It flings from his arm at half the speed of sound and detonates against Megla's exposed chest like a cannonball.
The sound, like a shotgun to the face, jars Megla's senses. She opens her mouth to scream, only to pause.
Not only is the Survival Suit protecting her completely intact, but the impact of José's ferocious throw doesn't even nudge her back an inch.
"...I'm alive?"
Completely shocked and in disbelief, Megla begins to slap her shielded body, marveling at how her claws can't even touch her scales unless she moves them slowly and deliberately.
José, clearly not surprised, saunters over and nods. "Survival Suits are special devices made for exploration and combat. Not only do they possess illuminative properties similar to the nanites within my skin, but they also can shield you from the most gruesome and grievous of wounds. I wanted to give one to you and your sister, but for now, this is the only one I've managed to reconstruct."
Megla apes the specific word back at José.
"You built this for me?"
"Haha, of course," José replies. "You're my precious First Officer! I have to protect you, don't I? It's not as if I'll need a device like that any time soon. As long as you have a Survival Suit, I'll rest assured nothing can happen to you down here."
Feeling sincerely touched, Megla lowers her head. "I'm sorry, Admiral. I should have trusted you. But... why didn't you explain how this Survival Suit functioned? You scared me half to death!"
Shrugging, José laughs. "Because I thought it would be funny."
"You jerk!"
Megla lightly socks José's arm, but her punch doesn't have any anger in it.
"Jeez. Thanks, okay? I do appreciate your little 'present.'"
Waving his hands, José strides back to his spot between Megla and the Kessu.
"No need to rest on ceremony. I'll give the next one I make to Soren," José says, waving her words away. "If it weren't for us needing to travel into such a dangerous location, I'd have probably given it to her first. After all, you're much stronger than her."
"Is that why you told my sister to stay aboard the Bloodbearer?"
The party of five continues walking, while José shakes his head. "Not entirely. I had other reasons."
"Like what?"
Megla's question goes unanswered. José smiles mysteriously and shakes his head. "Who can know?"
From the Terran's feet, Lele shouts. "Hey! Big Baldy! I want a Super Suit too! It's my birthday soon, so you've gotta make me one too, okay?!"
"Oh, your birthday?" José asks, clearly surprised. "You'll be turning three, then?"
"Not three! Seven! Seven years old!"
José nods. "I see. You'll be turning six years old."
"Seven! I said seven! Didn't you hear me?!"
The Terran's light teasing makes Lele start to fume, but he merely shakes his head.
"Haha. Children are almost as fun to mess with as you, Megla."
The Kraktol scowls. "There you go, teasing me again."
Several minutes pass.
As they descend further into the mountain, José's party laughs a lot less. Everyone, including Lele, falls silent.
The Admiral's expression turns solemn as he gazes around the caverns. Even without Umi's mapping capabilities, his nanite-imbued vision allows him to see into the deepest, darkest crevasses.
"How very strange..." The Admiral mutters.
"Is something wrong?" Megla asks.
"Not exactly."
José pauses for a breath.
"It's more that... so far, our progress has been extremely easy. You heard Umi's report. She detected 122,000 creatures underneath this mountain. Before, she cautiously guided us away from their movements, down countless winding paths, yet even after she stopped assisting me... not one predator has so much as looked at us."
The Admiral's next words turn Megla's blood to ice.
"It's too quiet. I believe something is stalking us. An intelligent monster..."
"...An aberrant."
José turns his head backward and glances back down the path they came. Nothing moves or reveals itself, yet his eyes narrow even further.
"Megla. Your Thulvik, she's lived a long time, hasn't she?"
"Huh? Yes. Well over ten thousand years. Maybe even twenty thousand. Why do you ask?"
Megla's tone carries a hint of uneasiness in addition to curiosity.
José slows to a stop. He turns to look behind the party, but still, nothing appears in his vision.
"In this universe, there are creatures ten thousand times more monstrous than the mightiest Terran, let alone me. I've even killed a few of them. Not by myself, of course."
He continues.
"To you, living ten or twenty thousand years probably seems unfathomable. Yet I know there are things that will never die of old age. Some of them stagnate in their development, while others continue to grow for as long as they live."
"I don't know what's following us. I can't sense anything at all. That, alone, is enough to frighten me."
Several tense seconds pass. The Kessu begin to tremble as their god-like protector squints and looks into the darkness with all his might.
Yet still, nothing appears.
"Curious. Very curious..."
Megla lowers her voice. "Admiral. Are we in danger?"
"I don't know," He replies, his voice wavering slightly. "Possibly. The fact 'it' hasn't attacked us could indicate many things. It might fear us. After all, there's nothing scarier than the unknown. It might only be curious. It may simply wish to observe us for a while before retracting its gaze."
"...All I have to go on is a warning in the back of my head."
José smiles as he turns to Megla.
"When you've lived as long as me... when you've fought like hell to survive, as I have... you get a sense for these things. And sometimes, 'these things' get a sense for me, too."
"What does that mean?" Megla asks. "You're starting to worry me."
"Good. Stay on your toes. I have a feeling that, before long, I'm going to need to count on you. I'm only one man, Megla. I can't be everywhere at once."
The grave expression on José's face, mixed with his emotionless smile, makes the Kraktol writhe uncomfortably.
"I won't let you down, Admiral."
Both of them stay silent for a moment before continuing.
As they walk, in the darkness far behind them, a shadowy creature slowly melts away from one of the walls and slithers behind a large boulder.
Despite being no larger than a toddler, its body gives off a malevolent aura.
"...Terran. It said the word 'Terran.' We heard it properly, yes? Not possible. The Terrans died. All of them. Not one left. Where could he come from?"
The creature mutters to itself, its words instantly fading into a magical barrier surrounding its body.
"This is our home. Ours! Not his. Stinky Terran. Filthy human. What does he think he's doing here? Has he come to take our toys? He can't. They're ours. Ours! Worthless remnant creature."
The shapeless creature expands in size, growing to match the height of a full-grown adult. It peeps out from behind the boulder, it's pitch-black eyes piercing the darkness.
"Kss. Too bright. Too much light. Hate the light... we hate it! We have to kill it. Kill! No light in our home. No, none at all... kss..."
The creature glances to its side, where it spots a small, four-legged animal with thick fangs protruding from its maw. The animal meets the shadowy monster's gaze and immediately freezes in place, looking at the shadow in horror.
"You! We told the others to stay away! Do you think you're better than us?! Impetuous worm! This is our home, not yours! Begone!"
The shadow materializes a ghastly five-fingered 'hand'. With an angry waving motion, it gestures toward the small, carnivorous predator. An instant later, the animal's eyes roll up into its head, and its body fades away, turning to ashes within the darkness.
"Kss. They're ours only. Our food! Kss. Stinky little fart-for-brains! That's what you get for not listening. Kehehe..."
The shadow continues following after its prey, slinking around within the darkness at a leisurely pace.
"It's been so long since we tasted human flesh... or a human soul... kss..."
Next Part
Author Note:
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submitted by Klokinator to HFY


I Got A Weird Text From An Unsaved Number

Being broke college students could be fun. There was the carefree lifestyle. The hard partying. And yes, all the pot and booze in the world. But above all, Diane and I had each other.
Honestly, we didn't really need jobs much less a super steady cash flow. We were students, man. Financial aid, scholarships. We got paid just to make decent grades. Which Diane and I did aplenty... and did so without even really trying. Such was the joy of being English majors. We could write papers with the best of them.
Our motto was always Mary and Diane against the world! We were two pretty black girls from Stanwyck, Georgia, and we weren't afraid to let our freak flags fly. We enjoyed both classic American prose (specifically Poe and Flannery O'Connor) and modern (Alice Walker and Anne Rice). Our expertise in everything from The Beatles to 90s teen horror movies certainly paid off on the 4th Quarter's weekly trivia nights.
We were like cheerleader captains for the FSU English building. You know. The smartest guys in the room. And we never lost our edginess. We always wore colorful 90s throwback wardrobes. Both of us rocked short hair and big glasses. Not to mention we both had big boobs which made us prouder than two drunk frat bros. And yeah, we also subverted every racial and gender stereotype you could possibly imagine. One of the only things we didn't have in common was height. I was about five-ten with a much more athletic frame than the short and skinny Diane. Not to mention I had much more of a temper... especially when I was drunk. Diane, well. She was the hippie to my Hellraiser rebel.
Without Diane though, I couldn't have enjoyed the student life like I did. And most of the time, I was fine just chilling with her in our shitty college town apartment.
The place was small, the rent cheap. We'd usually just fall asleep on the couch together. Honestly, we kinda had everything we needed in that living room anyway. The kitchen was connected to it and the front door was only a few feet away. So what if we didn't have much furniture, only three windows, ugly bland walls, and a bedroom overtaken by scattered clothes? We were happy and having fun.
We also didn't care how the place looked. After all, there was no pressure here at the McKendry Apartments. Not in this dump. I mean yeah, Diane and I still did what we could. We'd throw up vintage Audrey Hepburn and Nicki Minaj posters where we could. Pulp Fiction and Scream as well. But when it came time to throwing away empty beer cans and trash... well. Watching Netflix, getting drunk, and writing the occasion research paper were much more important. Not to mention smoking the occasional bowl...
At least, we'd given the McKendry shithole a little festive flavor. We had scattered Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling like Tarzan vines. Not to mention a raggedy plastic Christmas tree we put over by a window. All our lights and colorful ornaments weighed down its skinny limbs like we'd tied rocks to them.
We were on the building's third and top floor. Most of the other rooms up here were closed for eternal maintenance. So aside from a few neighbors we never saw, Diane and I basically had the floor to ourselves. Like our own VIP section in a hideous nightclub.
But still, Apartment 3E was all we needed. It was reliable. Our best place to crash. Our hospital on those really wild nights. And our sanctuary for boring nights like tonight. Plus, it was small so we knew the heater would keep us warm.
Now here it was December fourteenth. Fall semester was over and here we were trapped in 3E like we were hiding from a snowstorm. Then again, I guess tonight we sort of were. The temperature was about as low as it ever got in Tally. So even on a Friday night, I was fine just sitting here on the couch with Diane and watching whatever B-horror movie Netflix had to offer. We were dressed to chill anyway. Diane in her loose overalls and me in my FSU tank-top and pajama pants. I had my iPhone in one hand and a Michelob Ultra longneck in the other. About half a thirty pack was still waiting for us in the fridge.
Taking another sip of booze, I looked over and saw Diane take a hit from her psychedelic bong. Like a pro, she didn't cough at all as she laid the pipe back on the coffee table.
I glanced back at my phone. Past all the sexy naked men I was ogling, I noticed the time: 10:30 P.M. We'd been drinking since six...
I gave Diane a drunk smile. While she'd been getting high, my ladyboner had only gotten higher. The joys of conveniently searching man booty and dick.
Still grinning, I muted the flatscreen. "You wanna see something hot?" I teased Diane.
Smirking, she leaned in closer. "Show me."
Immediately, I jammed the iPhone 7's screen in her face. The annoying beat of Major Lazer's "Bubble Butt" immediately hit her. As did a front-row seat to a twerking Channing Tatum.
Diane recovered from my "jump scare." "I mean it's nice," she said through a stoned smile.
"Dat ass doe," I said.
Before I could revel in more Tatum butt vids, my phone buzzed with fury. An aggravating interruption to my pleasure.
Diane motioned toward my phone. "Who is it?"
I looked down, expecting one of our crazy cohorts wanting to come over for some booze and B-movies. But it wasn't. Instead, a message from an unsaved number greeted me. I didn't even recognize the area code: 6784741313
The message wasn't very memorable either: Hi there
"No clue," I told Diane. I showed her the number. "You know who it is?"
Baffled, she stared at the number like a perplexed scientist. "678?"
"Hold on," I said. Drunken curiosity getting the better of me, my frenzied fingers typed a reply: Who's this?
Diane smiled. "Just ignore it."
Chuckling, I sent the message. "Naw, let's have some fun."
"It's probably Caleb."
"I already blocked him!"
"Probably still him."
Leaning back like a crime boss, I smirked. "You really think I'm worth obsessing over?"
"Caleb obsessed over me too."
Laughing, I gave her a light shove. "Like you and Jack!"
Diane cringed. "Don't go there-"
"Little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane!" I sang with obnoxious drunken glory.
Chuckling, Diane pushed me back. "Stop it!"
"But it's so cute!" I teased.
Another jolt from my phone interrupted our intoxicated glee.
Our mysterious phone number had replied: U don't know? :)
I got ready to type another message.
Dismissive, Diane knocked my phone to the table. "Man, ignore his ass!"
Scoffing, I looked at her. "Why?"
"It's probably just Caleb fucking with you." Diane stepped off the couch.
Another vibration made the phone rattle across the coffee table. I leaned in closer toward it.
Yet another message from the 678 number was there: U don't wanna talk? :p
Before I could even finish my beer, another message hit the phone like a defibrillator. Cat got ur tongue?
The message even included a goofy cat emoji. How cute.
I took my final sip the longneck had to offer. Then with badass drunken glory, I sent a reply: Fuck off
Staring at the screen, I waited with anticipation for a response.
A pair of hands pulled me off the couch.
"Ignore his ass!" Diane demanded.
Smiling, I followed her over to the fridge. "You getting jealous?" I tossed my empty beer in the trash.
Sarcastic, she returned a flirtatious smirk. "Hmm, maybe a little." She grabbed two more Michelobs from the fridge.
"Aww..." I leaned back against a counter.
"I just think it's weird, man," Diane said. She handed me a longneck.
"What? The stalker?" I joked. I took a quick swig. Within me, the buzz was chugging along like a hypnotic disco beat.
Concerned, Diane leaned in closer. "I mean why does he keep texting, Mary?"
"I don't know. It's probably just Caleb like you said."
Unease still plaguing her, Diane looked off toward the coffee table. Toward my phone. "Maybe you're right-"
Even from all the way over there, the phone's ferocious vibration startled us.
"Shit..." Diane said.
The phone jolted to life once more, again scaring Diane.
I couldn't help but crack a smile.
Behind anxious eyes, Diane faced me. "But do you really think he'd go get a weirdass number just to harass us?"
"He does weird shit all the time," I said. Using my longneck like a pointer, I motioned between me and Diane. "And he likes both of us! You even said it yourself, Diane."
"I know..." Diane's trembling hands fiddled with her barely-touched Michelob. "But I just realized Caleb's back in Tampa..."
Not sure what to say, I took another sip of the reassuring booze.
"I mean almost everyone's back home, Mary."
Annoyed, I waved the Michelob at her. "So?"
Like a serious detective, Diane took a closer step toward me. "So no one's here!"
I looked back at the coffee table. I could hear yet another vibration erupt from my phone. Like an earthquake's tremor, I could even feel it.
"Who would have time to even do this shit during the holidays?" Diane went on.
I looked at her with a grin. "Us?'
Even Diane had to chuckle. "Well, you know what I mean. Normal people."
Another vibration went off. Diane and I both looked toward my phone as if we were confronting a creepy cave.
"Someone's eager," I joked.
Diane grabbed my arm. "Look, just ignore him."
Adventurous, I pulled away from her. "Naw, I ain't letting some asshole ruin our Friday night!"
In a confident gesture, I pointed the longneck at her. "Just watch!"
I left Diane groaning in the kitchen.
Letting my buzz overtake my timidity, I snatched up my iPhone.
Several unread texts from Mr. 678 awaited me:
Come on, already Talk 2 me, please R u there??
His final text even managed to give me fear through my beer: I'm not finished yet
"What the fuck..." I muttered.
Diane stopped next to me. "Hey, check this out." Like a cop presenting evidence, she held up her phone for me to see. "I looked up that number."
Through her research, all I saw was that 678 was an Atlanta area code. But there wasn't shit on the number itself.
"It's an Atlanta number," Diane went on. "But no one's reported this 474 shit. I don't even see it associated with any scammers or telemarketers."
I faced the uneasy Diane. "Well, that's fucking weird..."
Simultaneously curious and scared, Diane looked over at my screen. "What's he saying?"
My phone went off with a barrage of sporadic vibrations. Like I was holding a struggling animal, the iPhone jumped and squirmed in my hand.
Nervous, Diane and I stared at the clusterfuck spreading itself across my screen.
Countless texts came pouring in from the unsaved number. One after the other. An avalanche of SMS messages. As if multiple keyboards were working at once.
Where r u? I wanna see u Respond I'm bored ;) U there Geez, I'm getting tired of waiting
"What the fuck!" I yelled in anger. The mountain of messages made it impossible to even type on my keyboard.
"That's not Caleb!" Diane interjected.
"I know it's not!"
After about twenty messages, the texts finally came to a close.
Like a terrified child, Diane gripped my shoulder. "Just block the number, Mary!" she begged.
In a hold my beer moment, I placed my Michelob on the coffee table.
"Mary, please!" Diane continued.
Like an internet warrior, I got to work on my response. A flurry of f-bombs and insults were sent to Mr. 678. You dickless swine Leave me the fuck alone, bitch.
Yeah, I could get nasty and mean when I was drunk. And tonight, I was pretty damn lit.
"Mary, just block him!" Diane went on.
I felt her fingernails dig into my flesh. But that wasn't gonna stop me or my epic anger. My tirade of texts were flying out like bullets.
"Naw, fuck that!" I told Diane.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Diane reach for my phone.
"Just block him and move on," Diane said.
Reacting fast, I held my phone away from her. My focus stayed on the screen. My fingers flying at about 100 miles per hour. Faster than my texts. You little bitch Fucking cocksucker
I was gonna have this man in tears by the time I got through with his bitchass.
Diane managed to grab a hold of my phone. "Alright, you scared him enough!" she said.
Ready for more blood, I tried to pull my cell away. "Just let me finish!"
Diane chuckled. "Mary, just chill. Block his stupidass already."
We both felt the phone tremble in our grasps. A new message.
Full of adrenaline, I snatched the phone from Diane.
"What'd he say?" she asked. She peered over my shoulder.
6784741313 had sent us a video message. Its video preview sat on my screen like an unwanted present.
"Hit play," Diane said, her voice full of soft fear.
I did as I was told.
The iPhone footage showed a dark hallway. A long hallway. Ugly walls. Not many windows. Thin doors all lined up like they were part of a repetitive pattern. The hallway would be darker and more claustrophobic than a cavern if not for the cheap Christmas lights hanging on the walls. Those kind of old 70s lights with bulbs so big they could bask a room in psychedelic colors.
The unseen cameraman marched down the hallway. Their footsteps steady and heavy. Their harsh breathing even heavier.
In my sickened gut, I knew exactly where he was headed. I recognized that hallway right from the start. The third floor of the McKendry Apartments. Diane and I's own personal floor.
The man walked past a corridor.
And though I wasn't surprised, I felt my heart drop even further when the cameraman stopped right outside a familiar door. His camera aimed right at the door's crooked gold letters: 3E.
I could hear Diane gasp in fright. But I was silent in petrified fear.
In a knowing taunt, the cameraman let the shot linger on that door. And those tense moments felt like an eternity. Not just from discomfort either... but from fucking terror.
"Turn it off!" Diane cried.
As if the cameraman was listening, he walked away from the door. Like a ghost, he disappeared into that corridor. Then the video ended in a calm cut.
"What the Hell was that!" Diane yelled at me. Her scared eyes pierced deep into my soul. "How'd he find us!"
I did my best to disguise my horror. I had to stay strong for Diane. And me... "I don't know," I said. "That fucking bitch." Nervous, I glared at the door. "His ass couldn't have found us on-line!"
Diane followed my restless gaze. I could feel her body trembling more than the phone ever had. We both stared at the door like we were expecting company at any second. A knock, a voice. Anything.
A vibration cut through our anxious silence. Scared, we both looked back at my iPhone.
The cameraman sent us a new text: Do yall wanna talk now ;)
The follow-up message came in like a vicious taunt: Mary
"What the fuck!" I yelled. Irate, I faced Diane. "This bitch knows my name!"
With surprising strength, Diane grabbed the phone. "Let me get his ass."
"Damn, girl." Leaning in, I saw her hurl her own insults at the man.
Leave us alone, pussy We're calling the police Get out or I'll cut your tiny dick off Fucking puss
Damn, Michelob and fear brought out the rebel in both of us.
"You got that fucker," I said, supportive.
"Hell yeah!" Diane replied. Her eyes never looked up from the screen. Not from her current attack.
A strong knock at the door killed our victorious moods quicker than they ever began.
Screaming, Diane dropped the phone. Her drunken courage all zapped by one knock.
I glowered at the door. "Hey, who the fuck's out there!" I yelled.
There was no reply. No subsequent knocks. No nothing.
"I'm scared, Mary," Diane said. She grabbed a hold of my arm, killing the blood flow. "Just call the police."
Unlike Diane, I still had my buzz. Reflective, I looked down at my iPhone. There were no new messages. Just like there were no more knocks. If this was all one sick stupid joke, was I, Mary Pinkett, really gonna let the bitch get away? I was having a vigilante moment. Like Pam Grier in this motherfucker.
"Mary, please!" Diane begged in a trembling voice. "Just call them!"
I held Diane back, keeping her at bay. "Hold on."
"What?" she responded in a confused panic.
Ready to fight, I picked up my phone.
Diane grabbed my arm like a frightened kid clinging to their mama. "What are you doing!"
"I'm just gonna go look," I said. Focused, I stepped away from Diane and rushed toward the kitchen.
Diane lagged behind in horrified disbelief. "Are you crazy! What the fuck, Mary!"
Ignoring her, I pushed aside the dangling lights. My eyes stayed focused on the wooden knife block. Particularly the largest knife that stuck out like a sword in the stone.
"Mary!" I heard Diane plead.
One harsh yank pulled the knife out. A sharp sliding noise erupted like I was drawing a sword from my sheath. I could see my own fierce expression through the blade's reflection. My determined eyes.
A vibration went off. And this time, I didn't jump. I wasn't scared.
The cameraman had sent me a new text: Come on out ;)
Glowering, I went straight to the door.
Diane staggered up behind me. "Mary, hold on."
"Just come on," I said to her in a strong voice. "Let's get this bitch!"
Like a veteran cop, I banged on the door. "Hey, I got a knife, asshole!" I announced.
I got no reply. Not even a text.
All I heard was Diane's trembling body.
Gripping my weapon, I opened the door.
The hallway was as claustrophobic as 3E. Even uglier considering it didn't have me or Diane's "decorating." The Christmas lights were our only light. And like disco balls, they gave the whole layout a trippy feel. Big, colorful bulbs made it feel like we were in a nasty nightclub rather than nasty apartment complex. A very cold nightclub since McKendry never used the heater for their hallways.
I led Diane out into the hall. All the doors around us were shut. Not that I thought anyone was in those rooms anyway.
Full of paranoia and fear, Diane closed the door right behind us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her crouching like she was scared of getting caught in someone's crosshairs.
I felt my phone vibrate to life. Diane and I both looked at it faster than if Channing Tatum himself had texted us.
The unsaved number's newest message greeted us: U see me yet? :)
My drunk adrenaline pumping faster than a coke addict's heart, I gazed down the long hallway. I didn't see shit. Not a soul in sight in this dumpy Winter Wonderland. And not a sound either aside from Diane's jitters.
I saw the corridor was about ten feet away. Two doors down. I knew it led to the the stairway and a vending machine. But I didn't know if anyone was lurking in it...
"Let's just go back, Mary," Diane said.
"Just stay close, alright," I reassured Diane. With cautious steps, I led us off toward the corridor. I even let Diane cling to my shoulder. Considering how cold the place was, I felt like we were traveling through a damp dungeon. With shitty Christmas lights for torches.
Clinging to the knife, my eyes darted back-and-forth between my phone and the corridor. I saw nothing. Not a person or a new SMS.
As we passed the door to 3F, Diane didn't say anything. I could still feel her fear. But she did her best to suppress any whimpers or her trembling tone.
My phone glowed with a new text.
Another message from the cameraman: Ur getting closer
Then he sent me another one: ;)
Like a gravedigger, Diane's fingernails dug deeper into my shoulder. I just gritted my teeth and ignored the texts. My grip only grew tighter on the knife handle. At least, my dread kept me warm on this freezing third floor.
"We'll be alright," I told Diane in a supportive tone. "Just be cool, okay." We got closer and closer to the corridor. Just a few steps away.
I stayed in front of Diane like a human shield. Ready to attack, I pulled my knife back.
Right when we got past the door to 3G, my phone erupted with a buzz. A long, brutal buzz.
Startled, I stopped Diane. Our shocked eyes stared at my iPhone.
Rather than a text, we got an incoming call from the weird number. The propulsive vibrating felt like a jolt of electricity hurting into our frightened souls.
I took a deep breath. Then answered.
"Leave us alone, asshole!" I shouted.
But all I got was a dose of heavy breathing. Tormented heavy breathing.
"Who the fuck is this!" I yelled.
Diane leaned in closer. "What's he saying?"
Pressing the phone closer to my ear, I looked back toward the corridor.
The man's breathing continued. A terrifying chorus for my ears.
Holding the knife in front of me, I rushed toward the corridor.
Diane stayed behind, nervous. "Mary!" she yelled.
I staggered up to the corridor. But there was no one to stab. Under those ugly Christmas lights, there was nothing. Just the vending machine and staircase.
Everything was silent... except for the man's constant breathing. Those gasps were on a disturbing loop.
"Do you see him?" Diane asked.
Turning in confusion, I looked at her. "No..."
Then the man hung up.
In the cryptic silence, the lights above us went off.
Panicking, Diane and I looked toward the ceiling.
"What the Hell!" I yelled.
The Christmas lights followed right after. Like someone had pulled the plug.
Before I could react or even scream, the door to 3G swung open with ferocious power. Like a vampire emerging from the darkness, a man lunged out of the apartment. He wore dark gloves and clothing. A ski mask whiter than snow covered his face. A sharp hatchet in his grasp.
He moved quicker than Santa Claus himself. And in that instant, I couldn't tell if it was even a man or a woman or just a straight-up McKendry ghost.
"Oh God! Diane, look out!" I screamed.
Diane whirled around. One of the gloved hands smothered her mouth.
"No!" I yelled. Horrified, I ran up to 3G. My steps full of desperate panic. "Diane!"
Her screams suppressed, all Diane could do was look at me with helpless eyes. Eyes that were pleading me to hurry.
Confident, the man's mask of snow stared right at me. He held Diane in place like a torturous tease.
The horrific moment was brief but would haunt me forever. Just like how Diane's frightened eyes always would.
"Diane!" I screamed. I held my knife up and jumped toward the room.
Then like a ghost, the man dragged Diane inside 3G.
The door hit me like a barricade. One that I was too late to stop. I grabbed the locked knob and rattled it in agonized frustration.
Crying out, I banged on the door with all my might. The piece of shit rattled but wouldn't come down. The cold hallway only made my hands hurt worse with each thunderous hit. But I didn't care. Not now. Not when my best friend was in danger. "Diane!" I screamed. "Diane!"
Weeping, I pounded on the door. All while, Diane's eyes, her entire terrified expression, burnt itself into my ravaged conscience.
Her screams were only worse. Diane's yells echoed toward me from behind that locked door. Like the cries of a wounded soldier on the battlefield. And her screams were only getting weaker...
I stabbed at the door over and over. But the knife was no match for the primitive power of Apartment 3G.
Doing what I should've done all along, I called the police. By now, I heard nothing in that apartment. Not even a dying groan.
The hallway's meat-locker-temperature gave me more chills. As did the touch of a cold substance brushing against my toes.
I looked down in horror. Dark red ooze flowed beneath the door. And once I raised my foot, I saw how sticky the fresh blood was...
"Oh God..." I broke down in tears. In the cold, my weakened state collapsed against the door. I was now in the very spot I last saw my best friend.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the police arrived. We finally got the door to 3G opened. And in there, I found what was left of Diane. Stab wounds covered her body like an infectious, grisly disease. Long, deep cuts my best friend had to endure for minutes that must've felt like painful centuries. The murder was painful enough to hear and know I couldn't help her. Much less being the victim...
I still feel guilty about what happened. I should feel guilty about it. Diane never wanted to go out there. I made us challenge her killer. And now I suffer the deserving punishment of living with the painful realization that I led my best friend to her death. Not to mention that I now live in constant fear for my life. Yes, I've moved back to Stanwyck since then. I do on-line courses now, I changed my number. And I block every unsaved number. But I know that's not enough. Not when this sick asshole is still out there. And still knows my name and everything about me. And that one day, he'll return to finish off the final member of Diane and I's beautiful friendship.
submitted by rhonnie14 to Horror_stories