Post by Spirk on Dec 3, 2004 20:13:32 GMT -5
Original
Horror/Gore
Copyright by me so don't swipe it
This was my first published short story published at Apocalypse Fiction (Site Addy at the bottom of the story)
INHERITANCE
By R.M. Carroll
“Why is it they survived?” The old man muttered between fits of coughing. His old withered body had witnessed well over seventy years, but the last year had been by far the worst of his life, the worst of the planet’s life.
“Well they always said it would be roaches and duck tape that survived a nuclear holocaust, I guess they was right Jimmy.” The younger man replied to the question, even though he knew the old man wasn’t paying him any mind.
Jimmy and Paul had known each other for the last few months, survivors of the big one. Nobody knew for sure who started it, or for that matter who ended it. All they knew for sure was that there were a lot less people in the world this year then had been last year.
Another coughing fit came over Jimmy as he stared out into the darkness beyond their campfire. As Paul moved to help the old man he caught the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye, movement from just beyond the fire’s light.
“We’re not alone Jimmy.” Paul whispered as he handed Jimmy and old rag from the backpack that Jimmy hauled with him everywhere. That backpack had survived the end of the world so maybe that made three things that survived instead of two.
“Yeah I know, they been around us for a while now.” Jimmy muttered as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He peeked down at the dark red splotch on the rag and grunted. Paul knew it was bad, Jimmy’s health had been deteriorating since they had met, it had only been the last couple of days that Jimmy had started hacking up blood.
“What are we gonna do?” Paul strained his eyes out past the fire’s light, keeping his eyes low to the ground, seeking a sign of movement from them.
“Keep the fire stoked.” Jimmy answered, “The light keeps em away, they hate the light.”<br> Paul didn’t reply, only nodded his head and tossed another piece of wood on the fire. He looked over at his friend out of the corner of his eye and let out a soft sigh. Jimmy looked bad, the worst that Paul had ever seen him. Maybe it was the rad poisoning. Paul told himself, but he knew that wasn’t it. That involved hair loss and skin peeling off the body. He had seen enough people who suffered from it to know the symptoms. This was something different and deep inside Paul feared it was something much worse.
Jimmy started to cough again, great gagging coughs that made his whole body jerk violently as the older man rolled onto his stomach, then onto his hands and knees. He hacked and gagged as he began to vomit great gouts of blood.
“Oh Jesus.” Paul swore as he rushed to his friend’s side but something brought him up short. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye first, fast and small they darted along the fire’s edge, their little antennae visible as they came over that supposed safe boundary of the fire’s light..
They waited just outside of the fire circle, they waited and watched and Paul suddenly wasn’t so sure if Jimmy’s thought of it being the fire that kept them at bay was true. He felt they weren’t afraid of the flames; instead it was like they were waiting for something.
Paul turned back to Jimmy as his friend heaved once more and a fresh blast of blood splashed onto the ground. Only as Paul looked closer he saw that it wasn’t just blood that he was spitting out, floating in the blood, moving about of their own accord, were thousands of baby cockroaches.
“Oh my god!” Paul choked as he fell back and scrambled away from that one pleading eye of Jimmy as it watched him, as the gouts of blood continued to be heaved from his guts and onto the dirt.
The roaches, they had nested inside of Jimmy, had laid their eggs and now they were hatching, eating their way out of him. Paul watched as blood began to trickle from the one ear that he could see, as little roaches began to crawl from the blood and along Jimmy’s old and weathered cheek.
Behind him, all around him, Paul could hear the adult roaches skittering about outside of the campfire’s light. Some of them even entered the light and backed out again, dancing along the light as their children broke free of their human incubator.
Jimmy’s eye rolled to look at Paul again, terror and agony glared at him as the blood flowed from his mouth in a steady flow, something artery was perforated in the birthing process more then likely.
With one last heave, Jimmy reared up onto his knees and vomited forth a great gout of blood, enough to fill a human being as it spattered across the fire. Paul was frozen in place as the fire was suddenly doused by what was left of his friend’s bodily fluids. He was in the dark, and he could hear them coming for him.
He felt one brush his hand as it skittered into camp and he jerked his hand away from those multiple legs. He could have laughed at his situation if he had thought about it, one little roach brushed by his hand and he felt the need to jerk his hand away when a moment later they rushed over him like the coming tide. He felt them as they scurried over his legs, or up his back, or through his hair. He waited to feel their bite, to feel them begin to feed on him, but other then as something in their way that they were forced to cross the roaches left him alone. The same couldn’t be said for poor Jimmy, Paul could hear them feasting on him in the dark as they passed over him to get to his dead friend.
After what felt like a hundred years, morning finally came creeping through the empty window of the little house they had chose to stay the night in. Paul blinked his eyes as he let them adjust to the slow rise of night into day. He hadn’t slept that night, instead he had sat in the corner of the little room that they were staying in and had listened to the roaches devour his friend. There must have been thousands of them; tens of thousands and all of them had feasted on old Jimmy like a Christmas turkey until all that was left was the bones.
Paul stared at those bones now as they lay on the floor across from him. They had been picked clean, not a sign of meat or sinew left, only the bones and the blood that stained the floor and covered the makeshift fire pit they had made that evening before.
“Oh God.” Paul whispered as he quickly crossed himself. He had never been a religious man but he felt it was the right thing to do with his friend’s remains not five feet from him.
“Why am I still alive? Why didn’t they take me as well?” Paul whispered to himself as he grabbed Jimmy’s backpack. He searched through the bag for the canteen, hoping that would take care of the little tickle he felt at the back of his throat. The water was brackish, and warm but it was all he had. He took a long pull on the canteen and covered the back of his mouth with his hand as he coughed lightly.
“Must be a cold coming on.” He told himself as he tucked the canteen back into the bag and prepared to continue on his journey. He gave one last look at his friend’s remains before he pushed open the door to the early morning as another light cough wracked his body.
www.apocalypsefiction.com/
Horror/Gore
Copyright by me so don't swipe it
This was my first published short story published at Apocalypse Fiction (Site Addy at the bottom of the story)
INHERITANCE
By R.M. Carroll
“Why is it they survived?” The old man muttered between fits of coughing. His old withered body had witnessed well over seventy years, but the last year had been by far the worst of his life, the worst of the planet’s life.
“Well they always said it would be roaches and duck tape that survived a nuclear holocaust, I guess they was right Jimmy.” The younger man replied to the question, even though he knew the old man wasn’t paying him any mind.
Jimmy and Paul had known each other for the last few months, survivors of the big one. Nobody knew for sure who started it, or for that matter who ended it. All they knew for sure was that there were a lot less people in the world this year then had been last year.
Another coughing fit came over Jimmy as he stared out into the darkness beyond their campfire. As Paul moved to help the old man he caught the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye, movement from just beyond the fire’s light.
“We’re not alone Jimmy.” Paul whispered as he handed Jimmy and old rag from the backpack that Jimmy hauled with him everywhere. That backpack had survived the end of the world so maybe that made three things that survived instead of two.
“Yeah I know, they been around us for a while now.” Jimmy muttered as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He peeked down at the dark red splotch on the rag and grunted. Paul knew it was bad, Jimmy’s health had been deteriorating since they had met, it had only been the last couple of days that Jimmy had started hacking up blood.
“What are we gonna do?” Paul strained his eyes out past the fire’s light, keeping his eyes low to the ground, seeking a sign of movement from them.
“Keep the fire stoked.” Jimmy answered, “The light keeps em away, they hate the light.”<br> Paul didn’t reply, only nodded his head and tossed another piece of wood on the fire. He looked over at his friend out of the corner of his eye and let out a soft sigh. Jimmy looked bad, the worst that Paul had ever seen him. Maybe it was the rad poisoning. Paul told himself, but he knew that wasn’t it. That involved hair loss and skin peeling off the body. He had seen enough people who suffered from it to know the symptoms. This was something different and deep inside Paul feared it was something much worse.
Jimmy started to cough again, great gagging coughs that made his whole body jerk violently as the older man rolled onto his stomach, then onto his hands and knees. He hacked and gagged as he began to vomit great gouts of blood.
“Oh Jesus.” Paul swore as he rushed to his friend’s side but something brought him up short. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye first, fast and small they darted along the fire’s edge, their little antennae visible as they came over that supposed safe boundary of the fire’s light..
They waited just outside of the fire circle, they waited and watched and Paul suddenly wasn’t so sure if Jimmy’s thought of it being the fire that kept them at bay was true. He felt they weren’t afraid of the flames; instead it was like they were waiting for something.
Paul turned back to Jimmy as his friend heaved once more and a fresh blast of blood splashed onto the ground. Only as Paul looked closer he saw that it wasn’t just blood that he was spitting out, floating in the blood, moving about of their own accord, were thousands of baby cockroaches.
“Oh my god!” Paul choked as he fell back and scrambled away from that one pleading eye of Jimmy as it watched him, as the gouts of blood continued to be heaved from his guts and onto the dirt.
The roaches, they had nested inside of Jimmy, had laid their eggs and now they were hatching, eating their way out of him. Paul watched as blood began to trickle from the one ear that he could see, as little roaches began to crawl from the blood and along Jimmy’s old and weathered cheek.
Behind him, all around him, Paul could hear the adult roaches skittering about outside of the campfire’s light. Some of them even entered the light and backed out again, dancing along the light as their children broke free of their human incubator.
Jimmy’s eye rolled to look at Paul again, terror and agony glared at him as the blood flowed from his mouth in a steady flow, something artery was perforated in the birthing process more then likely.
With one last heave, Jimmy reared up onto his knees and vomited forth a great gout of blood, enough to fill a human being as it spattered across the fire. Paul was frozen in place as the fire was suddenly doused by what was left of his friend’s bodily fluids. He was in the dark, and he could hear them coming for him.
He felt one brush his hand as it skittered into camp and he jerked his hand away from those multiple legs. He could have laughed at his situation if he had thought about it, one little roach brushed by his hand and he felt the need to jerk his hand away when a moment later they rushed over him like the coming tide. He felt them as they scurried over his legs, or up his back, or through his hair. He waited to feel their bite, to feel them begin to feed on him, but other then as something in their way that they were forced to cross the roaches left him alone. The same couldn’t be said for poor Jimmy, Paul could hear them feasting on him in the dark as they passed over him to get to his dead friend.
After what felt like a hundred years, morning finally came creeping through the empty window of the little house they had chose to stay the night in. Paul blinked his eyes as he let them adjust to the slow rise of night into day. He hadn’t slept that night, instead he had sat in the corner of the little room that they were staying in and had listened to the roaches devour his friend. There must have been thousands of them; tens of thousands and all of them had feasted on old Jimmy like a Christmas turkey until all that was left was the bones.
Paul stared at those bones now as they lay on the floor across from him. They had been picked clean, not a sign of meat or sinew left, only the bones and the blood that stained the floor and covered the makeshift fire pit they had made that evening before.
“Oh God.” Paul whispered as he quickly crossed himself. He had never been a religious man but he felt it was the right thing to do with his friend’s remains not five feet from him.
“Why am I still alive? Why didn’t they take me as well?” Paul whispered to himself as he grabbed Jimmy’s backpack. He searched through the bag for the canteen, hoping that would take care of the little tickle he felt at the back of his throat. The water was brackish, and warm but it was all he had. He took a long pull on the canteen and covered the back of his mouth with his hand as he coughed lightly.
“Must be a cold coming on.” He told himself as he tucked the canteen back into the bag and prepared to continue on his journey. He gave one last look at his friend’s remains before he pushed open the door to the early morning as another light cough wracked his body.
www.apocalypsefiction.com/