Skulls

His chest bobbed up and down as he raspily breathed. The wooden floor was stained a deep crimson. He wanted to scream, but he had neither the energy to do so, nor a reason; he was so far from civilization that his cries would be absorbed by the dense forest surrounding this damnable building.

Footsteps reverberated throughout the house as something came up the stairs. The man’s pulse quickened in fear. The footsteps grew closer and closer, and the man heard the door begin to creak open. He tried to strain his neck to watch the door, but the pain resurged like a dagger penetrating his temple. The man winced in pain and resolved himself to lie there limply.

“My my,” a soft and soothing voice said, “I must say that you continue to surprise me. I had expected you to bleed out hours ago, yet you continue to live. You humans truly are stubborn creatures, especially when your lives are on the line.” The voice laughed, and as it did, the laugh twisted until it was a distorted and hideous caricature of what it had been. “Now roll over and die already.” The voice became raspy and harsh, all semblance of kindness ripped away.

“What…are…you…?” the man croaked.

“I am a great many things,” the voice replied, only this time taking on the seductive sound of a temptress, “but you have yet to experience even a mere fraction of them, and you never will.”

At this the man on the floor began to weep. Growing up in this small town, he had heard stories of this supposedly cursed, abandoned house, but he never took him seriously. Even the dark graffiti plastered throughout the house did little to dissuade the man. But now it was too late. This house was not cursed or haunted or abandoned; it was damned through and through. The beast that lurked within its walls was an impossibility and a violation of nature.

“Why…?” the man croaked again.

“Why not?” the voice replied, but now it sounded identical to the man. Chills pulsated down his spine. “Do some humans not find pleasure in hunting animals or killing them? Do some humans not find pleasure in doing that same detestable action to each other as well as themselves? This is a wretched world you know; one truly deserving of annihilation. But now is not the time for that.”

The man felt something wrap itself around his left leg, then it began slithering up his chest. The man continued to stare blankly towards the ceiling, his mind too shattered by terror to feel it anymore. The thing’s tendrils continued to wrap themselves around the man. Gradually the pressure grew tighter and tighter until loud cracks erupted in the air.

The greedy tendrils began to slurp up what remained of the man. Within moments the floor was clean of blood; all that remained was a white skull. Without a sound, the thing grabbed the skull and silently skulked through the house. Each room was darker than the last as the thing traveled deeper and deeper into the house. Eventually, the thing reached his destination. The room was dimly light with only a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Countless skulls littered the floor, so much so that the wooden floor was completely hidden from view. Gingerly, the thing crouched down and tenderly set the skull down amidst the countless other grisly memento moris. Once the skull joined its companions, the thing walked forward and sunk himself into the sea of skulls.

After a short while, the thing heard a door open beneath him. Without a sound, the thing arose and crept into the shadows, ready to observe this new quarry. Two relatively gruff voices echoed throughout the house and boards creaked underfoot. As the thing grew closer, he observed that two police officers had entered his domain, most likely in search of the dead man. Well, if they were in search of this man, then they would certainly find him.

The thing retreated to the room where he had slain the man, and he mimicked his shape and voice. “I’m up here!” the mimic called. The footsteps quickened as the officers made their way towards the voice. They entered the room, and as soon as they did, the door slammed shut behind them. Startled, one of the officers ran towards the door and desperately tried to open it while the other approached the mimic to tend to his wounds. As soon as the officer knelt down next to the mimic, the thing reverted to his original form. The officer tried to scream, but it was too late. The thing’s tendrils shot outward and enveloped the officer before he could even cry out, devouring all but his skull.

The other officer turned and shrieked a bloodcurdling scream. The thing enjoyed his terror. Instead of instantly devouring this officer, the thing shot a shadowy tendril forward, wrapped it around the officer’s waist, and threw him into the shelving unit in the corner. The officer crashed through the shelves, breaking them all and causing them to fall down on him. The officer tried to climb away from the shattered shelves, but the thing shot out more tendrils to grasp the wooden splinters. The thing laughed in bitter mockery as he thrust shattered beam after shattered beam into the officer’s body. Once the officer had finished crying out, the thing devoured what remained of him as well. Then it gently took the two skulls and transported them back to his trophy room, setting them both right next to the skull of the man who had foolishly trespassed but a few hours earlier. Once back in the trophy room, the thing tenderly reentered his blanket of skulls and slept again, ready for the next foolish intruder to ignorantly enter this domain in search of death.