GONE MISSING
Chapter 9
Ross and Stephen parked their car a half-block away from the storage garage. There were even some trick-or-treaters out here, moving from store to store. Ross shrugged, showed his shotgun.
"What are you DOING?" hissed Stephen.
"It's part of my costume."
The two of them found the address. Grimy windows kept them from seeing inside. They crept around to the main door, off an access alley. The big pull-down garage door was closed, but a small front office door lay open. Ross entered, swept his shotgun side-to-side. Clear.
The two Agents entered, crossed to a door leading into the main garage. Stephen listened. There as some sort of high-pitched ... muttering going on inside. He drew his own weapon, shouldered open the door.
Eliot didn't see them at first. He was filthy, soaked with sweat and grime. He was throwing dozens of packages of snack foods into a cooler he'd bungied to the back of his bike.
"Eliot, you need to freeze ." Ross kept his voice nice and even, gun high.
Eliot turned. His eyes were wide, a desperate mix of hope and horror. "Going to make it all better. Me and my friend!"
"Yesssss, suuuurrrre," Stephen crooned, reaching for a pressure syringe of elephant tranquilizers he kept in his medical bag. Eliot nodded, soothed. Ross eased forward ...
Somewhere inside Eliot's fevered brain, a connection fired. His eyes suddenly narrowed. When his voice came, it was metallic, cold. "You don't want me to be with my FRIEND --"
The Agents felt a wave of vertigo slam into them. Stephen , already off-balance, tumbled to his side. Ross slumped against a nearby wall, his shotgun BOOMING wide. Plaster EXPLODED from the wall, shredded. In his fogging vision, he saw Eliot leap onto his bike.
"Dammit," Ross thought, "at least the others can't be having as bad a time ..."
******************************
"Not good, not good ..." Denis, Jo, and Andy had their guns out from the moment they'd walked through the front door of Eliot's house --
-- and seen his mother encased in a solid cocoon of goo.
Her featuress were frozen in horror. Her hands were raised, as if she'd try to claw her way from the translucent gunk even as it hardened around her.
"Like a white-trash wasp in amber," Andy muttered. He touched a still-moist section of the cocoon. He winced, snapped his hand back.
"Sting, then numb?" Jo asked. Andy nodded. "Ran into traces of that out in the woods." She turned to talk to Denis, but he was already gone.
So he didn't hear the screams.
*******************************
Denis cracked the door to the attic. He'd put most of it together, so up here ...
There it was. Wire hangars, electronics, and... well ... brains. Laminated wedges of human brains stuck on Lego building blocks in a weird 3-D array that almost defied sight. Bits of it seemed to bend away in the light. It was just slighlty bigger than a breadbox. A breadbox that might reside in Clive Barker's breakfast nook.
"Hey, guys! Found something VERY important in the attic!" Denis grabbed the device. He frowned. "Andy! Jo!" No answer. He shook his head, descended the ladder. You just couldn't depend on those two.
*******************************
Andy and Jo stood in the middle of the street, staring. Parents, some openly vomiting, struggled to drag their tormented, traumatized children from the sidewalks. Some panicked, running madly, randomly, until they collapsed.
There was the alien. In the middle of the street. It was maybe three feet tall, slimy, brown. It had a huge, bulbous head with oversized, soft brown eyes. Its gentle mouth was curved in a friendly smile. Its thin neck tapered down to a potato body. In any other situation, its waddle would have been adorable.
That's not why people were screaming.
The alien apparently thought to flee town by wearing a Halloween costume. Going by size, it naturally decided to gamble on Gertie's costume, a charming, innocent white ghost sheet.
And perched on top of the alien's head was Gertie's head.
Balanced, bobbling, a frozen smile on her dead lips. Eyes wide open. The alien was wearing Gertie AS a costume. The alien looked around, Gertie's head swiveling atop his own a beat later. it seemed genuinely saddened and puzzled by the reaction around it.
Andy reacted first. He raised his gun.
"You are so not phoning home."
(DM's Note: Exact quote.)
His first shot hit home. The alien SHREIKED. It's insane screaming was drowned out by Jo yelling back, swearing as her twin nine mils BANGED away nonstop at the thing. One of Andy's shot knocked Gertie's head off the alien's top. That only served to push Jo farther over the edge.
The alien jerked from each hit, its brown eyes wide with sadness. Suddenly, its expressive eyebrows angled in. It opened its mouth. Within was a CIRCULAR JAW lined with rows and rows of crooked, RAZOR TEETH. The jaw distended, opening wide enough to swallow a human head.
Then the goo JETTED OUT.
Gallons of slime, impossible amounts, like from a fire hose SLAMMED into Andy. He gasped, felt his limbs going numb. He tried to shake off the effect. His gun fell from nerveless fingers. Beside him Jo dropped two clips, reached for two more.
Andy heard a BUZZ. The alien, its face now a mask of cthulhu fury, teeth SPINNING in its mouth like a saw, CHARGED them on its stubby legs. The buzz came from the long, silver cylindrical DEVICE in the creature's right hand.
"So that's what you use to core a human," Andy thought to himself.
And not happily.
Chapter 9
Ross and Stephen parked their car a half-block away from the storage garage. There were even some trick-or-treaters out here, moving from store to store. Ross shrugged, showed his shotgun.
"What are you DOING?" hissed Stephen.
"It's part of my costume."
The two of them found the address. Grimy windows kept them from seeing inside. They crept around to the main door, off an access alley. The big pull-down garage door was closed, but a small front office door lay open. Ross entered, swept his shotgun side-to-side. Clear.
The two Agents entered, crossed to a door leading into the main garage. Stephen listened. There as some sort of high-pitched ... muttering going on inside. He drew his own weapon, shouldered open the door.
Eliot didn't see them at first. He was filthy, soaked with sweat and grime. He was throwing dozens of packages of snack foods into a cooler he'd bungied to the back of his bike.
"Eliot, you need to freeze ." Ross kept his voice nice and even, gun high.
Eliot turned. His eyes were wide, a desperate mix of hope and horror. "Going to make it all better. Me and my friend!"
"Yesssss, suuuurrrre," Stephen crooned, reaching for a pressure syringe of elephant tranquilizers he kept in his medical bag. Eliot nodded, soothed. Ross eased forward ...
Somewhere inside Eliot's fevered brain, a connection fired. His eyes suddenly narrowed. When his voice came, it was metallic, cold. "You don't want me to be with my FRIEND --"
The Agents felt a wave of vertigo slam into them. Stephen , already off-balance, tumbled to his side. Ross slumped against a nearby wall, his shotgun BOOMING wide. Plaster EXPLODED from the wall, shredded. In his fogging vision, he saw Eliot leap onto his bike.
"Dammit," Ross thought, "at least the others can't be having as bad a time ..."
******************************
"Not good, not good ..." Denis, Jo, and Andy had their guns out from the moment they'd walked through the front door of Eliot's house --
-- and seen his mother encased in a solid cocoon of goo.
Her featuress were frozen in horror. Her hands were raised, as if she'd try to claw her way from the translucent gunk even as it hardened around her.
"Like a white-trash wasp in amber," Andy muttered. He touched a still-moist section of the cocoon. He winced, snapped his hand back.
"Sting, then numb?" Jo asked. Andy nodded. "Ran into traces of that out in the woods." She turned to talk to Denis, but he was already gone.
So he didn't hear the screams.
*******************************
Denis cracked the door to the attic. He'd put most of it together, so up here ...
There it was. Wire hangars, electronics, and... well ... brains. Laminated wedges of human brains stuck on Lego building blocks in a weird 3-D array that almost defied sight. Bits of it seemed to bend away in the light. It was just slighlty bigger than a breadbox. A breadbox that might reside in Clive Barker's breakfast nook.
"Hey, guys! Found something VERY important in the attic!" Denis grabbed the device. He frowned. "Andy! Jo!" No answer. He shook his head, descended the ladder. You just couldn't depend on those two.
*******************************
Andy and Jo stood in the middle of the street, staring. Parents, some openly vomiting, struggled to drag their tormented, traumatized children from the sidewalks. Some panicked, running madly, randomly, until they collapsed.
There was the alien. In the middle of the street. It was maybe three feet tall, slimy, brown. It had a huge, bulbous head with oversized, soft brown eyes. Its gentle mouth was curved in a friendly smile. Its thin neck tapered down to a potato body. In any other situation, its waddle would have been adorable.
That's not why people were screaming.
The alien apparently thought to flee town by wearing a Halloween costume. Going by size, it naturally decided to gamble on Gertie's costume, a charming, innocent white ghost sheet.
And perched on top of the alien's head was Gertie's head.
Balanced, bobbling, a frozen smile on her dead lips. Eyes wide open. The alien was wearing Gertie AS a costume. The alien looked around, Gertie's head swiveling atop his own a beat later. it seemed genuinely saddened and puzzled by the reaction around it.
Andy reacted first. He raised his gun.
"You are so not phoning home."
(DM's Note: Exact quote.)
His first shot hit home. The alien SHREIKED. It's insane screaming was drowned out by Jo yelling back, swearing as her twin nine mils BANGED away nonstop at the thing. One of Andy's shot knocked Gertie's head off the alien's top. That only served to push Jo farther over the edge.
The alien jerked from each hit, its brown eyes wide with sadness. Suddenly, its expressive eyebrows angled in. It opened its mouth. Within was a CIRCULAR JAW lined with rows and rows of crooked, RAZOR TEETH. The jaw distended, opening wide enough to swallow a human head.
Then the goo JETTED OUT.
Gallons of slime, impossible amounts, like from a fire hose SLAMMED into Andy. He gasped, felt his limbs going numb. He tried to shake off the effect. His gun fell from nerveless fingers. Beside him Jo dropped two clips, reached for two more.
Andy heard a BUZZ. The alien, its face now a mask of cthulhu fury, teeth SPINNING in its mouth like a saw, CHARGED them on its stubby legs. The buzz came from the long, silver cylindrical DEVICE in the creature's right hand.
"So that's what you use to core a human," Andy thought to himself.
And not happily.
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