Threnody (037).

(This is a 500-word-a-day novel project.)

The thing hissed at them, rising up on its haunches, much, much taller than seemed possible, standing easily two feet over Ryan’s not-inconsiderable frame. It bared its teeth at them and dropped the (oh God, arm) meal to the side, flexing its claws, each fingertip ending in a curved, black talon.

Get out of here, Ryan said, pointing the gun at it. Take a hike, ugly.

The thing bared its teeth, hundreds of them, dripping saliva colored with blood, and began to growl.

Screw this. Ryan fired, the report sounding like the apocalypse under the blanket of the dark. The demon’s face disintegrated, teeth and black bile splattering the plane’s hull. It flailed once and fell into the pile of its dinner, scattering the limbs.

There’s more, the boy said flatly, slipping his hand into Jesse’s and sucking on his thumb. She didn’t need to ask him for clarification, because now she heard the soft, slithering sounds, things moving just out of the range of her vision, brushing up against trees and causing them to creak and groan. Like wind through pine trees, it sighed, coming ever closer. Ryan pointed at the boy. Pick him up. We’re getting out of here. Nobody’s snacking on my gorgeous behind.

Jesse swung the boy up, surprised at how light he was. He slipped his arms around her neck, and she pushed her fingers under Ryan’s belt; together they moved forward at a half-run, Ryan pointing the gun before them, trying to aim everywhere at once. Yellow and red eyes were glaring out at them from the dark, reminding Jesse absurdly of the Scooby-Doo cartoons that she’d loved as a kid. She fought off the overwhelming demand to look over her shoulder, sure that claws were reaching for her, ready to gut her from behind.

Ryan shot twice, to his left. Something fell out of one of the trees, something black with what looked like several mouths along the sides of its head and neck, each one with chattering teeth. Another thing, this one with many barbed legs like those of a roach moved around behind it. Ryan pushed Jesse backward a little, breathing through his nose. With great effort, he forced himself to take his finger slowly off of the trigger. The clip’s almost empty, he said.

They could barely see the road but they stumbled on, snatched at by the low canopy of tree branches, each one crawling with tiny insect-like things, mini-demons that fell on their faces and bit them, smashed between their fingers until their hands were covered by a disgusting mush. The monsters, smarter now, kept their distance, waiting, but they still caught snatches of them, heard grunts and snarls, glimpsed spider-like things and shark-like things, all of them bursting with teeth, the gnashing which filled the night like cricket-music. Ryan only shot the ones that attacked them directly, but that didn’t stop them from slashing at their legs and backs, drawing blood and licking it from their fingers.