Scary Monsters

by Jonathan Wood

What am I doing here?

I knock the door with the butt of my gun three times. I wait. I hear feet on the far side of the door. I hear them hesitate.

“What do you want?” A woman’s voice, not afraid yet. But it’s a voice that knows there are things to be afraid of. It’s a voice that knows there are monsters out there.

That’s why I’m here.

“Gas leak in 15B,” I say. “Just need to check if everything’s OK.”

A pause. Then, “I don’t smell anything.”

“I still gotta check.”

A second pause. This one’s longer.

“Call the super if you want,” I say. “I can wait.”

“No. It’s OK.”

I hear her undo the latch, turn the lock. I ready my gun. She opens the door.

She’s maybe thirty, maybe forty. Dark, shoulder-length hair, eyes placed just a little too wide. But for all she looks like my neighbor, like yours, she isn’t. She’s just another monster.

She opens her mouth. I pull the trigger.

As the bullet leaves the barrel I hear the thing inside of her shriek, see it try to pull it’s way out of her though her mouth, white and segmented as it is, see it try and unwrap its tendrils from behind her hindbrain, try to leave this empty corpse and scamper for the nearest piece of cover.
The bullet hits it in its yellow mouth, between its myriad eyes, and she and it punch apart, tumble to the floor.

Job done.

Then there’s a yell, a scream. A boy runs into view. He sees the woman, the thing that used to be his mother. He screams again. Can’t be more than eight. Doesn’t look more than eight.

Why am I here?

I holster my gun. I turn away, but I can still here his scream. It’s in my head and it won’t get out. It shakes in me as I walk down the hall.That scream from when he knew the truth.

There are monsters out there.