Amen to Rot: Awaken Read online

  Leaping out of the clearing, I move down the sidewalk past the line of trees to an open field where the human figures were attacked.

  Where Ace is hiding.

  A sense of urgency fills me, but I don’t know why. My sensitive ears pick up ripping, not of clothes, but of a material that is more solidly sewn together.

  Skin.

  My ears also detect a gargle-like noise. Right as I’m about to reach the end of the tree line, I clearly hear a crunching sound, as if someone is walking on a bed of hollowed sun-burnt twigs.

  Reaching the end of the tree line, I stare forward, and startle as I have come face-to-face with two Alien creatures that are crouched over the humans. They are not looking in my direction, but bent over the humans. Standing, I would estimate they are over six feet tall. They are undoubtedly a formidable size. They have no fur, but have a rather dark slimy skin that is tightly stretched over shoulder bones and hip joints. Their back legs are configured, I surmise, to hurdle themselves far.

  Both have their heads draped over the two adult human males. One human is a 30-something and the other a 50-something. One creature has its mouth engulfed over the older man’s head like a vice.

  The older man’s body is convulsing and an object lies in his limp right hand. I automatically know what that object is, A semiautomatic rifle. I never had a chance to fire it. The man’s head implodes from the squeezed pressure causing brain debris, fluid, and blood rushes out.

  The other creature stands on the younger male’s chest, with jagged claws thrust inside the man’s neck, while the other claw is slowly slicing and shredding the skin. The man is still alive, but is unable to scream as fluid has filled the man’s throat. He makes a gargling sound, blood bubbling out of his mouth, and the white of the man’s eye are rolled back, flickering. He has a pistol near his side that he never had time to fire. Doubtless, it would have been useless against these things anyway.

  These creatures, I quickly intuit, are strangely herding something here. They want to prepare these bodies, make them tender.

  But for who?

  One creature, which is only ten feet away, raises its head a second and half after I emerge from the tree line. Something tells me that this reaction is sluggish for this instinctive creature, noting to myself, It can’t smell me like the humans can.

  Seeming to snarl silently at me, the creature shows a jaw filled with sharp teeth. It arches its back. Its black lidless yellow eyes stare at me. Immediately, this creature warns his partner without any body movement or sound.

  It warned the other telepathically.

  Just as the creature sends a warning signal, it lowers its haunches to the ground, and springs.

  The force of the leap is phenomenal. I track the creature’s jump as if it’s moving in slow motion.

  My eyes watch the back claws depart the ground and the front claws extend out. The creature is snarling, and I understand it expects to crush me, and simultaneously attempt to pierce me with its razor sharp claws.

  Before I move though, there’s a spurting sensation at the bottom of my arm. An instant later, the creature disintegrates into a mesh of bones, fluid, flesh, and goo. The fleshy raw material lightly mists my face and shoulders. I’m stunned as I realize.

  I did that.

  Peering down, my left talon-spiked arm has opened like a blossoming flower. Bizarrely, three protruding thin extensions are bent back at the end of my arm.

  Each thin membrane extension has metallic, watery beads forming on it. I marvel to myself, those beads did that.

  In the space of a second the other creature startles with fear.

  It’s panicked. This has never happened to it.

  I instantly square myself to it.

  The creature, comprehending I’m a mortal threat, instantly pushes back on it haunches to leap. Before it does, the thousands of balls that had formed on my leaf-like protrusions discharge in a quick burst.

  My eyes amazingly watch as the hundreds of thousands of beads move, expand, and divide at a high rate of speed. This happens in a quarter of a second, and then, the beads seem to enter the beast.

  In the next instant, the creature’s eyes widen, just a tick of a moment, before the creature explodes in a mass of flesh. My ears note a soft explosion sound of flesh. I track each piece of shredded flesh and yellowish fluid mixed with bone-like material spurting up in the air.

  I watch as the steamy pile of massed flesh falls to the grass.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I stare down at the smoking debris that was once the strange Alien creature. My ears pick up the sound of grass sizzling as the gooey mass of flesh and bones continues to burn. I watch as my blossom extensions fold back into my arm like a flower closing for the night. My arm is once again a sharpened talon.

  Shocked, I bend down, and breathe deeply in the creature’s debris. I focus on the scent. It smells completely burnt. I am uncertain if this is the scent I had smelled earlier.

  A gargle sound reaches my ears. I look over and see the younger man, his eyes flickering open as he continues to have bubbles ooze from his mouth. A hunger seizes my body again.

  Once again, that same scent from before is back, and I realize it is growing in intensity. At the same time, my ears detect that the man’s thundering heart is quickly slowing.

  He’s fresh. He’s not rotten.

  I quickly crawl to his body, and put my nose to his sliced chest. I stare at the blood seeping out. Again, I am filled with a strange sadness as I am now something that needs to feed on live flesh.

  Reluctantly, I bury my nose into his chest laceration. I can feel the palpitations of the beating heart.

  Now, do I feed?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  . . . Last Night

  With my head partially encased inside the man’s chest I think back again to shrinking away from that cold hand that slithered over my shoulder.

  I remember spinning around and staring straight at him. This person is who I made the promise to.

  He stands before me. His head waves back and forth and yellowish eyes stare at me. Those eyes are going blank. Yet, I can sense they still have recognition and emotion. A low guttural moan is escaping through his lips. He leans forward seeming to smell me.

  His yellow eyes slowly move down to my left hand. He stares at the hand holding the small metallic canister. He licks his lips and there’s a definite flicker of recognition that crosses his eyes. I’m aware that he seems to understand what lies inside this canister. My thumb rubs the trigger that will activate the needle.

  A seizure seems to jolt through his body causing a convulsion, and he steps back. The head is violently thrown back and I hear him groan in pain.

  Two pale sickly human figures stop at the doorway. These are undoubtedly Undead ready to feed. Their noses are turned up and without any doubt they are catching the delicious scent of my human flesh.

  I can also tell they are clearly in the throes of the virus and have no control. They move through the doorway racing across the office, jumping over the furniture.

  There’s no time left.

  The one standing before me seems to sense the two behind him. He stops convulsing, and he brings his dead, yellowish eyes to mine.

  My fingers in my right hand grip the heavy weight nestled in its holster. The fingers firmly grip the handle and I quickly pull out the gun. The gun slides easily from the holster.

  I bring the gun around and aim the barrel dead center on the forehead. Behind him are two Undead advancing quickly.

  A low guttural sound escapes his mouth again as he stares at me. It sounds as if he’s trying to talk, but I cannot make out any words.

  The tears stream from my eyes.

  I mutter, “I’m Sor...sorry.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Opening my eyes, my face remains encased in the man’s chest barely touching organs. That faint memory of me saying, “I’m sorry,”, echoes in my head.

  Blood caresses my nostrils and
mouth.

  No. This is not right. This is not what I desire.

  The heart stops pumping.

  I remove my head from the chest cavity, blood and fluid stick on my snout and chin. I close my eyes feeling a strange sense of relief flood through me.

  Thank you. I don’t want this human.

  I then I feel an entity. A person. A boy. Above me in the tree.

  Before turning to look up, I’m mindful that this person is trembling, silently sobbing with tears pouring down his face. This boy, Ace, is instinctively holding a hand to his mouth to stifle the sobs. I comprehend what he is feeling.

  Helpless fear.

  I look up through the sturdy branches and see a face high up in the tree. A boy of about thirteen years old.

  Ace.

  The boy’s eyes meet mine, and they enlarge in shock.

  Ace grunts audibly as he steps back.

  Ace, forgetting that he’s standing on a limb, steps back on nothing but air. His eyes widen with shock and his arms wave in circles trying to keep his balance. Then his eyes fill with horror as he starts to crash down through the branches, falling.

  He has no time to scream. His descent is met with continuous smashing into branches that echo out loudly. Each branch he hits causes his body to twirl in the air.

  Instantly, I foresee the boy’s fall will break his neck, killing him instantly.

  In a knelt position over the younger man’s body my brain estimates it is approximately the far distance to the tree. Nevertheless, in a fluid and quick motion, and without thought, I leap. My razor sharp talons instantly open to their thin soft membrane appendages. There are no bubbles formed on them this time.

  I catch the twirling body in midair landing in a knelt position. The soft membrane appendages hold the body firmly. They surprisingly keep the body stable as I land, my body jerking to a stop.

  My thin, sensitive membranes detect the boy’s uncontrollable shakes. I note a throbbing sensation, the boy’s pulse is surging.

  I stare at the child. The boy’s arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are tightly closed. His neck is pulsating with his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Then, I blink in horrid surprise at what I’m holding.

  He’s fresh, really fresh...never been touched.

  My body yearns desperately to feed on meat.

  I have drool spilling out of my mouth as I taste the sweet smell in the air.

  The smell is now everywhere!

  My hunger is intoxicating.

  I stare at the boy. I will myself to not bend my head. I will myself to not use my razor sharp teeth to pierce the boy’s flesh. I stare helplessly at this del.icate creature, agonizingly asking myself, is this the meat I desire? I hear myself plead, please no

  The odor I had smelled earlier is now overwhelming. It seems to be everywhere. I hear my stomach growl loudly.

  There’s a sound escaping the boy’s mouth.

  It’s jumbled and nonsensical. I pick up a recurrent phrase, but I am unable to decipher it. I concentrate on what he’s saying, willing myself to not yet give into my hunger. I will myself, patience, patience.

  I stare at the boy’s throat seeing the visible pulse. I open my mouth slightly, feeling saliva dribble out, and I snap my jaw shut.

  Wait! I need to listen.

  Patience, I will myself...patience.

  Leaning in, I hear a familiar word every few seconds. I catch the word finally. My head snaps up in shock. Did he just say…?

  Putting my snout closer to the boy’s face, I clearly hear the familiar word repeated over and over, ‘Amen...amen’. I lean in closer.

  Patience, I will myself.

  Finally, I catch the thread in the boy’s words, ‘Pray to our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Amen’, and he then repeats the same phrase.

  I find my nose almost touching the boy’s lips, feeling the boy’s breath on my face. A sense of relief fills again me as I realize, I do not desire this flesh, either. I desire…something different.

  The word Rot emerges in my mind again.

  I remember back to that day when I was just a ten year-old boy.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Standing near the creek, my father is holding a fish he just caught and is about to place it in the cooler.

  I’m exhausted and ready to go home. My father turns towards the cooler where we’ve stored our few catches of the day, and then smiles down at me, “Hey kiddo. So, why didn’t we put your fish on ice?” My father nods towards the cooler on the bank.

  I am now exhausted of questions, and exasperated, I answer with annoyance underlying my tone, “Because it’s bad for you.”

  My father nods gently, and adds, “Amen son. Fresh fish is good for you. Not like those you had, before.”

  He then looks down at me and says, “That fish you had. It was rotten. A chemical happens to it, giving it a rot smell. Only certain critters are drawn to that.

  “They can eat it, and not get sick. But if you and I ate it, well…we’d get sick…” At this, my father bends over making a “Bleh, bleh, blehhhh” noise, imitating a vomiting sound.

  He stops as he is bent over, and turns his head to me. He’s smiling and there’s a softness in those eyes. This causes a large smile to swell on my face.

  I bend over, laughing heartily, and start to feel some energy spurt back into my body. My father always had a knack of making me feel better. A warmth glows inside my heart and I smile to myself thinking, rotten food. It’s bad news.

  Still smiling, I turn to my dad, knowing this is a perfect time to ask if we can get ice cream on the way home.

  I turn to him and my smile violently vanishes.

  My father is grinning at me, but half of his jaw is torn away showing gums and teeth. Drool is seeping out from his teeth, dribbling off his chin. One eye is partially dislodged, bouncing from a thin, fibrous flesh. He’s dangling a rotten fish in front of his face.

  My father leans forward, grinning, and slurs forcibly, “EAT ROT, SON! EAT IT ALLLLL!!! AMEN to ROT!!!!”

  I realize this part is no longer a memory. This part never happened. This is a message.

  A message from my father.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I find myself quickly reeling from this vision. The image of my father’s rotten-face is still etched in my mind. I am still holding the boy named Ace. He continues to have his eyes tightly closed, trembling, and murmuring to himself.

  My stomach growls. The most pleasant sweet aroma is now camped in my nose. That smell is wonderful and it seems to be all around me. But, I realize, this smell is not coming from this boy I am holding.

  I focus on that smell, and realize it is wafting in from behind me.

  In this instant, I also realize there is movement behind me. I place Ace on the grass who is incoherently mumbling, his eyes held tightly shut.

  I pivot quickly, and as I do, I notice it’s sunset.

  Standing before me is a large group of figures, they are human, but they are all pale, sickly, all of their eyes are yellow. I listen, and detect no noticeable heartbeat.

  They’re dead.

  I wonder to myself, how are the dead walking about?

  I instantly sense these new Undead, and they were being herded here.

  A fifty-something year-old bald man stands in front of me, he’s wearing a ripped blue shirt and grimy jeans. His entire right arm has been severed. Blood dribbles from that arm. The man’s eyes are a light yellow and his lips are blistered and split open. A low guttural hunger sound escapes his mouth.

  I easily sense this one deeply desires the boy behind me.

  In the background is a woman, maybe once forty years old, wearing jeans and she’s dipping her hand into the younger man’s chest. She has a patch of skin missing from her jaw showing teeth. Her hand brings out a gristly organ gleaming with fluid in the dawn light.

  Is that the heart?

  Three others have fallen to their knees at the older man�
��s corpse, placing their greedy fingers inside the body ripping, tearing, and shredding.

  I suddenly feel overwhelmed, confused in fact. I try to put it all together.

  Those creatures I destroyed. They killed Ace’s uncle and father. Killed them for these Undead standing before me. And most importantly, those Aliens were herding these Undead together.

  But why?

  What kind of world is this now? How did this ever come to be?

  Saliva trickles down my chin, dribbling to the ground below.

  My mind is no longer able to think. I am mesmerized by this smell of rot that stands before me. I breathe deeply in their sweet smell.

  I realize when I was human this smell would have been considered rotten, horrible, but now, it is the best smell ever.

  Suddenly, there’s a need to bite into the man’s chest and rip out his flesh. I’m quite certain this would be quite gratifying.

  These things. These Undead do stink of rot.

  I lick my lips and think, and God, they do have an absolute rotten corroded pungent odor to them!!!

  They are rotten to the core! And they smell delicious! Amen to that!!

  Strange that eating rotten food as a boy could have made me sick or killed me. Because now, I am quite certain that eating this rot will make me strong.

  Before I rip into the dead flesh before me, I have one final thought.

  My name is not Amen.

  Who am I?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Later, I’m satisfied as I squat, gorging on rotten fingers, organs, and skin. Many Undead body parts continue to writhe around me as if they have a life of their own. A hand, lying near me, twitches and the fingers flex, seeming to tap the ground. I pick it up and gingerly place it inside my mouth and feel it easily slide down my throat.

  Now, I find it easier to remember, and the memory of the office is vivid. I remember I hold the pistol to his head, I hear the two charging Undead in the background. Tears stream down my face. I’m saddened I must shoot this person I had loved.

  After I bring the pistol to his head, I remembered he blinks at me. I whisper, “I’m sorry.” His yellowish eyes understand. He wants this. He makes a guttural noise that sound strangely like words.

  I watch as he bends his head back, and splays his hands outwards from his body with his palms up. He eerily resembles a poster I just saw on a bench.

  I mutter, quietly to the void in this world, “I’m sorry father.” I pull the trigger and the explosive tipped bullet evaporates my father’s head.