Thump, Scrape, Pause

A story about two brothers that receive an unwanted guest.

Gary came crashing through the door lite, glass spattered in the air, littering the floor with a sparkling shower. He was folded on the lock rail like an old carpet roll, a large shard of glass impaled his stomach and was sticking out of his back.

Charlie was looking at him with a horrified grimace; Gary had just enough strength left to lift his head and look at his younger brother one last time.

“Cha-Char-lie … run!” He uttered with difficulty; his head dropped, and he was gone.

Charlie stood there, tears running down his face, but he had no time to grief, behind Gary a shadow loomed, it staggered toward the house--dragging an injured leg behind it.

Fear had paralyzed Charlie, that thing had thrown his brother through the door from that distance. He's always been weaker than his brother, and although Gary had injured it, it had still bested him in the end. How was he ever going to survive a confrontation with it?

Something flew past his face and made a loud chopping sound in the kitchen door behind him. He turned his head back slowly, to find an ax planted firmly in the door, a few inches to the right, and it would have caught him in the face, and that would have been the end of him.

The shadow was coming up the porch steps; Charlie helplessly confused ran for the kitchen. He tried to pull the ax from the door. The ax wasn't coming loose, out of desperation he let himself hang on the handle trying to force the weapon out of the door, it stubbornly clung on, but Charlie kept bouncing his weight on the handle until it caved under the pressure of his mass.

He looked back and saw the bottom of an enormous safety boot in the air, speeding towards his brother, it kicked him in the rear busting the doorjamb, the door flew open, smashing Gary into the wall, cracking his neck.

Charlie gasped, he held his hand against his mouth and started to whimper. He pushed the swing-door open with his shoulder and ran into the kitchen. The door flapped shut; he heard something stab through the door, wood splinters hit him in the back of the head, he turned to look, and the blade of his brother's hunting knife was protruding from the door.

It sent shivers down his spine, how was it possible that whatever was attacking him had this much strength. He wanted to leave the house, but he'd be an easy target if he ran out into the open, and he doubted his ability to dodge a knife torpedoed straight at him.

He decided to go up the stairs. Taking the steps in twos, he ran across the hallway and into his bedroom. He held the doorknob turned, to keep the latch from clicking while he closed the door, he flipped the deadbolt handle to lock it, and slowly backed away from the door. He was still trembling with fear, his legs felt like rubber, and he was almost on the verge of soiling his pants. His back touched the opposite wall; his eyes were fixed on the gap underneath the door; he was safe as long as the hallway light continued to spill into his room uninterrupted.

There was a long deadly silence, it seemed to drag on forever, for a moment a glimmer of hope teased his thoughts, maybe the figure had gotten bored playing hide and seek; had given up and decided to leave. That shining light was quickly extinguished when he heard the distant sound of a heavy safety boot stomping on the landing, announcing the arrival of the figure in the upstairs hallway. His fears spiked to new heights. He was gasping shallow, restrained breaths, trying to be as quiet as he could, listening intently, there was no sound again for what seemed like an eternity, then the limping melody started; thump, scrape, pause; thump, scrape, pause; thump, scrape, pause.

A door handle jiggled in the distance, then a door cracked open. That was Gary's room. He bent down slowly and carefully put the ax on the floor; he turned to the window and unlocked it silently. He grabbed jutting edge of the bottom rail with both hands and slowly started to pull up the lower sash, one eye was squeezed shut, he was biting down on his teeth, for some reason he felt that it helped him be more stealthy. The window went up and got stuck three inches above the sill. If his life hadn't been in danger, he would have cursed at the damn thing. Then he remembered that the day he had moved in, Gary had told him that the window would get stuck sometimes, and had offered to call the repairman to have it fixed. He had told his brother that if he enjoyed giving away money so much, he might as well give the cash to him, and he would fix the window himself. Charlie loved the idea of fixing things, but he detested doing the actual work--which is why--six months after telling his brother that he would repair the window, it was still getting stuck.

Now his procrastination had left an obstacle between him and his sole escape from the deadly figure that was slowly approaching his bedroom door. Another door crashed in that was the linen closet, only the bathroom door was left, and then it would be his turn.

Thump, scrape, pause … thump, scrape, pause … thump, scrape. Charlie was waiting for the figure to barge through the bathroom door, his timing had to be perfect if he was to soon or too late than the figure would hear the screeching sound of the window being forced open, and it would be on top of him in an instant. He waited anxiously, he tightened his grip on the bottom rail. The moment he heard the door get hit, he pulled as hard as he could, the bathroom door smashed against the wall, the sash scratched loudly against the railing, but he managed to pull it loose and get it all the way open.

He stood silently in front of the window, waiting for the terrifying beat to start playing again, he didn't dare to move while the figure was still, they were locked in a sinister dance, the thing was the Lead, and he was the Follow, it was the only way to camouflage his presence. Now that he only needed to climb out to freedom, his patience started to run thin, he wanted out already, inside he was screaming for the figure to start moving again, the suspense was slowly grinding away at his nerves.

Thump--that was his queue, he slid his torso out the window, scrape--he swung one leg over the sill, pause--he paused, his eyes still locked on the slit underneath the door. Thump--he lifted his other leg, it brushed the handle of the ax, the ax swayed, Charlie watched it with a terrified grimace, his eyes spread open so far, that his irises looked like life-savers floating in white gelatinous oceans. The ax fell on its side; the handle hit the floor with a piercing clog, Charlie was frozen with fear; the thing started to move again, the limping beat sped up from adagio to moderato and finally allegro, it had been alerted to his presence, the very ax he had relied on to be his protector ended up betraying him.

No longer forced to be silent, he whipped his leg over the sill, hurrying out the window. At that very moment, a loud bang broke the door off its hinges and sent it flying in his direction, it slammed against the wall beside him. The menacing silhouette of the thing that was after him; stood in the doorway, its shoulders rising and lowering with each angry ragged breath it took. Charlie went pale when he saw that it was wider and taller than the door opening; it was hunching down to look at him through the door-less frame, that can't be a man he thought, no human being can have the size of the thing in the doorway, and the eyes, the fluorescent yellow bloodshot eyes covered with thumbing red veins, they were a window to the insanity that was controlling the mind of the looming figure. This wasn't someone--something he could reason with.

Charlie hurried out the window, he stretched for the drainpipe, inside the limping beat grew louder, his fingers brushed the pipe, he gave himself more slack, he was hanging on to sill by the tip of his fingers, the figure was almost on top of him now, he had no choice he had to risk jumping for the drain, it was his only chance to escape, he let go of the jamb and leaped from the ledge, but a large hand grabbed his arm stopping him mid-flight, and pulled him back inside. Charlie hit his forehead against the edge of the raised sash, it gouged his head, blood gushed out of the cut, it went into his eyes, his entire face was covered in streams of red tears, the thing held him close to what should be its face, the blood in his eyes blurred the image of the figure, he wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand, and was confronted by the most hideous thing he's ever seen in his life. The bald monstrosity in front of him had terrifying eyes, one hanging lower than the other, they were covered by thick jutting brows, his mouth a large gaping hole, surrounded by enormous teeth that looked like damaged bricks covered in black and green sludge, his skin was a decomposing gray, with dark purple hues, and covered in black veins. The thing was breathing heavy, exhaling with a low rumbling growl, it's breath smacked Charlie in the face, the rotten smell made him gag, and convulse.

The thing threw him down against the wall underneath the window, the impact cracked the wooden panel, a sharp pain seared from his back to his extremities. He took choked shallow breaths, he had almost resigned himself to his fate, when he noticed the ax lying on the floor beside the towering menace in front of him. It was now or never, the ax would get a second chance to redeem itself, after having betrayed him.

He dove for the weapon, a giant hand tried to grab him, but it missed him by a couple of inches, and caught air instead. The thing was strong, but it was clumsy, which gave Charlie a slight advantage, one that he knew he had to exploit if he wanted to escape with his life. He glided towards the ax, grabbed it by the handle, and pushed himself up from the floor, he turned and jabbed with all his might, he knew he wasn't going to kill it, but he would at least injure it bad enough to slow it down, he ax came down with thunderous force, but stopped midway, his hand had been caught, dwarfed inside the large fist of the figure, it flung him in the air and slammed him against the window, the glass shattered and fell in a spray of shiny fragments.

The crushing pressure engulfed his hand, the force of the clenching fist cracked his bones, his hand felt like it was caught in a compactor, his bones snapped and broke, he cried out in agony. 

The thing kept pressing and rolling his hand like it was kneading a ball of play-dough, his hand continued to crack and snap, his cries of anguish grew louder, he tried to pry open the creature's fist, but he was like a toddler, trying to escape the grasp of an adult. He lost his grip on the ax, and it fell out the window, rotating as it fell to the floor, deceived again, it made a perfect landing headfirst, cutting into the ground.

The blade of the hunting knife glinted in the dim light coming from the hallway.

“Please, no, please please no, NO!”

Charlie knew that pleading for his life would make no difference, but it was all he had left. The thing thrust the knife into his abdomen, a high pitched gasp wheezed from his lips, the knife came out, blood sprayed from the wound, then it knifed him again repeatedly. The figure propelled him through the window, more shattered glass sprinkled the ground, and a moment later Charlie's body followed landing on top of the ax, it cracked through his sternum, and tore through his heart, Charlie lay there, his body spread in an awkward pose, a lonely tear ran over the bridge of his nose and dripped into the red smeared grass, he sighed his last breath, it spilled out with a thin stream of bloody sputum. It went dark, above he heard the melody again: thump, scrape, pause; thump, scrape, pause; thump--

Author's Note

All your constructive criticisms are welcome. ;)