The boat was so small that they honestly hadn't expected to get so far without losing a few passengers along the way. It seemed that Mac's idea to swish the oars through the water instead of full strokes was working, slow as it was. All around them they heard only the sounds of chirping insects with the occasional angry bellow from nearby crocodiles who could see them clear as day, despite it being barely into the wee hours of the morning.
The group of survivors didn't care about the time, only that they made it to the next town - or safer still, the ocean. If it wasn't too near to the town of St. Plaquemines, it wasn't probably at risk, or at least not as likely to catch whatever had been growing inside the old Marigny Manor.
They'd let it out, you see, during the charity concert that had been held there only a few hours ago. It could all be blamed on a few too many drinks, a door made from gnarled black wood that seemed to follow them about the house and the accidental mass suicide caused by too many people trying to get the shadows out from inside them.
If it weren't for the fact that the Marigny family had purchased dozens of small boats for "romantic night fishing" along the bayou beside the manor, the group would all be dead by now. It was their first thought to get to the water and pray that whatever they'd let out couldn't swim. Being that they were in the heart of the bayou already and the thing they'd let out had spoken English there was still the possibility that it could swim.
It certainly couldn't row a boat, it didn't seem to have arms as such and its lower limbs were more akin to fleshy flabs than anything resembling legs. Still it was following them, bringing derangement and bloodlust with it as it had been doing for however many miles they'd been rowing for. Screams echoed quietly behind them and the occasional loud splash was heard as bodies hit the bayou, luring crocodiles into feeding frenzies.
Though they kept watch on all sides they neglected to check the water beneath them, never seeing large flaps of flesh rippling like an eight foot stingray just out of arm's reach of their fragile vessel. Foolishly placing all of their hope into reaching the ocean, they never heard the thing behind them calling out softly for its brethren, never saw several new pairs of rippling flesh join in silent pursuit.
The group of survivors didn't care about the time, only that they made it to the next town - or safer still, the ocean. If it wasn't too near to the town of St. Plaquemines, it wasn't probably at risk, or at least not as likely to catch whatever had been growing inside the old Marigny Manor.
They'd let it out, you see, during the charity concert that had been held there only a few hours ago. It could all be blamed on a few too many drinks, a door made from gnarled black wood that seemed to follow them about the house and the accidental mass suicide caused by too many people trying to get the shadows out from inside them.
If it weren't for the fact that the Marigny family had purchased dozens of small boats for "romantic night fishing" along the bayou beside the manor, the group would all be dead by now. It was their first thought to get to the water and pray that whatever they'd let out couldn't swim. Being that they were in the heart of the bayou already and the thing they'd let out had spoken English there was still the possibility that it could swim.
It certainly couldn't row a boat, it didn't seem to have arms as such and its lower limbs were more akin to fleshy flabs than anything resembling legs. Still it was following them, bringing derangement and bloodlust with it as it had been doing for however many miles they'd been rowing for. Screams echoed quietly behind them and the occasional loud splash was heard as bodies hit the bayou, luring crocodiles into feeding frenzies.
Though they kept watch on all sides they neglected to check the water beneath them, never seeing large flaps of flesh rippling like an eight foot stingray just out of arm's reach of their fragile vessel. Foolishly placing all of their hope into reaching the ocean, they never heard the thing behind them calling out softly for its brethren, never saw several new pairs of rippling flesh join in silent pursuit.
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