Goop

a horror short story i wrote last night and today

Marcel sat on his recliner, looking out the small window at the lightning strikes of the dark midnight sky. He loved the sound of thunderstorms. He shoved a handful of fishie crackers in his mouth, pressing his nose on the window screen to get the smell of fresh october air. A thunderstorm on one of the best nights of october? Rare. Marcel's cat climbed its way onto the recliner, sniffed his fingers, then stole a fishie cracker and ran out of his room with it. Marcel shrugged and shoved another handful into his mouth, the thunder almost as loud as his crunching. In fact, marcel noticed that, the thunder was oddly loud. With the next crack of thunder, the sound of a thud across the house rang through the hallway. Marcel cautiously approached the door way of his room to peek his head out into the hallway leading to the living room. The front door...It had flew open, and the carpet was getting completely soaked. Without thinking, Marcel ran across the hall, flipping the door shut and locking the deadbolt. How the f**k does a deadbolt unlock during a storm? No amount of wind can do that. Marcel brushed his toes on the wet carpet, which would have to air dry itself. He looked around, more lightning strikes lighting the livingroom in flashes, bursts of speed that cause shadows to dart across the room, much faster than whe na cars headlights shine through your window. Thinking this was an insane coincidence, he cautiously stepped forward, immediatelly filling with disgust and regret. Marcel looked up, a tall dark figure on the ceiling was drooping down, then sucking itself back up like slime. Marcel withheld his scream, trading it for a sharp gruffle. That was enough for the goop monster to spot him, though. The slime stopped for a moment, slid untill it was almost directly above Marcel, and began to gloop down slowly. Marcel wasn't going to wait to find out what it was going to try and pull- he sprinted down the hall to the his bedroom at the very end, and slammed his door shut; locking it, locking it again, and double locking it.

The door to Marcels' bedroom was old and wooden, very broken, and you could see a good bit of the other side of the door from the crack along the edge with the door handle. Peering outwards towards the hallway, at first Marcel saw nothing. No gloop, no intruder, no nothing. It wasnt untill the thick black gloop dripped past the crack in the door, that marcel realized the gloop was at the very top of the other end of the door, slowly melting down towards his level. Marcel didn't hesitate- he ran on his tippie toes, like the criminals in cartoons, to his bookcase, pulling out his rather large hunting knife he bought off of amazon for 7 bucks. It was a summers sale and he used a -30% coupon, so it was an amazing deal. Nyway, back the the story. Marcel gripped the knife, pulling off the duct tape he had covering the sharp end, safety first kids. He turned around, and held the knife oddly far, as if he was to stab the door itself. Approaching it, he peered once again through the crack, but all he saw was black. He waited for lightning to light up the hallway, but even though thunder sounded throughout the sky, lightning never came before or after. Marcel slid the knife slowly through the rather wide crack, but he did not get far before his knife poked into something. It wasn't like goop..nor cloth. It was skin.....unnaturally dark skin. Without thinking, he plunged the knife forward, the silver knife and the dark skin immediatly boiling over with purple goop. A loud alienated gasp sounded throughout the house, and sludge steps ran away from the door, but slowly as if constantly sinking in mud with every step. In the heat of the moment, to have stayed quiet is a but a though. Marcel unlocked the door and dashed out, towards the figure, which in the dark looked purely like a giant blob slowly sliding across the floor. He held up his moist knife and held it for it's upper back, just below where the head would be. The knife entered its body smoothly, the figure dropped down onto its knees. Instead of leaking ooze; the wound of the figure began to pump endless streams of bright red blood. Marcel kneeled down onto his knees, looking down at the knife and the beastly ooze bleeding on the floor. There was a flash of lightning- bright as the uv lights in the doctors office. The bright white light filled the room, and dispersed as soon as it came. When marcel looked back down, the ooze was gone, but the floor was covered in a large pool of blood. Marcel held his stomach in pain, a sharp pinching feeling sounding throughout his bones. The front door unlocked itself slowly, the person on the other end turning the knob and pushing it open to get out of the rain. 

"God...The weather man is always f*****g wrong, completely soaked my knew bag-"

"Marcel....?....baby????"

the paramedics came slow~ the booming storm deterring them from the safety of the roads this late at night. Marcel was rushed to the emergency room, where they began to start blood transfusion. He lost a lot of blood, and needed more. The nurse prepped his wrists, preparing to insert the needles. As the tight needles inserted past his skin, the blood bags began to clog; and up through the needle, came a blackish purple ooze- which filled the bags and the needles. Marcel died at 3:13 am, 3/28/18.