When I went downstairs to check out the source of the noise it was halfway over the threshold, clusters of arms reaching out to corrupt everything they could while it continued to feed the rest of its body into my home. Grey fungal tendrils sprouted from the walls, rising to meet its touch and pull the life of the place with it.
I felt like I'd been standing at the base of the stairs for hours but the clock hands hadn't moved so it's hard to be sure just how long we were both there. It - an unaware beast, hellbent on draining the world dry and leaving it a lifeless husk, and me - hyper-aware and struggling to remain calm in the face of a slow and painful death.
Crouching and heading for the opposite side of the house bought me a little time, just enough to remember that the dining room window was broken and currently kept locked with a single nail. Something I could probably pry free with my hands and then make a break for my car, heading to a friend's house deep in the city where it wasn't strong enough to venture.
That's if it didn't notice me or get greedy and speed up or decide it's full from feeding from the walls and hunt for me directly. I hid behind the sofa, trying to steady my nerves as quietly as possible when I saw movement in the corner of my eye.
It wasn't quite within killing reach but its tendrils would soon be within striking distance - going for the lungs first, then the eyes and finally the mind. There wasn't a better or worse time to make my move so I did what I had to, making as little noise as possible and hoping I had enough phone battery to use the remote start app.
Against it all it worked - the damned thing that was always running slow or accidentally setting my alarm off actually worked. I was able to tear out of my drive just as it flung its upper half out the window, tendrils shooting out in every direction and all falling short.
Or so I thought.
It's slower than they'd have you believe but maybe I'm not dying from this.
Maybe I'm Becoming... strangely I don't mind that at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment