Hostile Creatures

Mama told me not to go out at night. She worried about the creatures. She said anything the creatures touched would die. In fact, none of my kin felt comfortable knowing they lurked, watching, waiting to destroy.

Too bad I couldn't stay home. I just had to press my luck on account of an ache in my belly. The odor seeping through my pores anytime I'd get anxious was more than I could bear. So once again I crept in the woods, trying not to let the full moon's glow reveal my position. My anxiety increased with the hopes of spotting one of them. The creatures didn't scare me even though I had seen the tragedies they caused. Bodies everywhere. The sound of profound loss multiplied through wails of mourning. So much death and destruction every single night.

Twigs snapped, freezing me in place. I inhaled, trying to spot the change in the atmosphere while doing my best to blend in with the shrubbery. A few seconds later, I heard vegetation shifting. I knew it couldn't have been a breeze on account of the dry humidity. A familiar scent reached my nostrils. It took all of my control not to puke from the stench. Holding my breath proved challenging, but I had to endure. I had to get back to Mama. She would be real angry if anything happened to me.

Just when I was about to move, bushes parted and I was face to face with a hideous beast. Two holes expanded to reveal glowing black pupils. Its mouth opened revealing uneven teeth. I thought about sprinting out of there, but a slushy loud noise coming from the creature made my stomach growl.

I wanted to communicate with the monster, to tell it not to make noise, but they never did understand us. Its shrill scream was deafening. Running was no longer an option. The malice permeating from the creature as it raised appendages had traumatic affect on me. A shiny metallic claw-like thing came barreling towards my head, narrowly missing me.

Any thoughts of taming the beast evaporated for my drive to survive dominated the frightening encounter. I didn't have time to get away so I stopped the clawed arm and snapped its head back. The sound similar to the cracking of twigs ended its screams. Yanking its head clean off, I dug my teeth deep inside its torso, chewing on its entrails, alas eliminating the pain from my belly. 

I knew Mama wouldn't be happy with me for eating another hostile creature, but the hunger always won. Besides, the misguided beast had attacked me. What I thought a strange talon glimmered on the ground. An ivory handle revealed it was a weapon. 

Thoughts of dragging the carcass so that my kin could feed and discover the tasty treats were replaced my the inevitable speech that would follow. Momma wanted us to keep to the rules for hunting. She wanted us all safe. Besides, colonizing the beautiful planet would take time. My kind had planned to share the environment with the hostile creatures, but if the others could learn to acquire the same tastes I did then perhaps they would see that taming the savages was no longer an option. They would discover that the hostile creatures...humans were delicious. 

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Eat Me!

Here's a little treat from me to you.  Have a wonderful and happy Halloween! 

Eat Me!

By Nomar Knight

I woke to screams.  While my vision adjusted to the darkness, beads of sweat cascaded down my spine.  The fan’s hum had died. 

“Damn! The power is out again.”

My voice sounded like a choked whisper.  I tried to clear my throat, immediately holding my neck to ease an intense soreness. 

Droplets of rain pelted the windows, triggering memories of giant creatures fighting to get in my abode. 

I uttered, “What a dream!”

In spite of the humid night, I embraced myself to stop from shaking.  The more I attempted to focus on my present state, the quicker my room seemed to fade into nothingness.  Thick silence morphed into gruesome, run-for-your-life screams.  Constant pounding increased my heartbeat.  I recalled thinking, can’t let them eat me. 

The splinter of wood, followed by the clickity clack of something inhuman, travelled to my eardrums and into my psyche.  Instinct clawed at my stomach. 

Run!

Somehow, I knew the monsters outside were determined to feast on my flesh. 

Another jolt, followed by more wood cracking, prompted me to search for a weapon. 

“I need a sword.”

Clickity Clack!

A ray of moonlight revealed whiskers.  No, not whiskers, but antennae. 

“What the hell?”

Clickity Clack! Clickity Clack!

A pair of giant, silver eyes filled with needle-like indentations glared at me as though I belonged to the bottom of the food chain. 

I wondered if kicking its eyes would disable it long enough for me to escape. 

It shook side to side, attempting with desperate precision to invade my territory. 

“Wake up, damn it! Wake up!”

One last push and the giant beast smashed its way within inches of my trembling frame, forcing me to hug the wall—trapped. 

I crouched, praying for invisibility, when three more beasts cornered me. 

As the giant ants stabbed me with their antennae, I snapped out of my trance.  The power went back on.  My wife poked me with her sharp fingernails. 

“Wake up, Carl!  You’re having another nightmare.”

“They’re trying to get back at me.”

“Who?”  Emily brushed hair away from my eyes. 

“Ants!”

She giggled.  “I told you not to eat those chocolate covered ants.  Now go back to sleep.”

I watched as she turned off the lights and settled under the covers.  The fan circulated humid air in the room. 

“How can you cover up with this heat?”

Light snores signaled that she was fast asleep. 

I tried to follow her example and rested my head on the pillow, wishing I hadn’t taken the dare. 

The sound of wood splintering jolted me upright again.

“Honey, did you hear that?”

A louder snore confirmed she remained oblivious to our reality. 

In spite of my agitated state, my eyes grew heavy.   Attempts at shaking off sleep were interrupted by the distinct sound of wood cracking. 

This can’t be happening.  I must be dreaming again.

For awhile I couldn’t tell what was real or the nightmare.  I sat upright for what seemed like hours.  The rain stopped.  The welcomed sounds of silence accompanied my head bobbing.  As soon as I rested my head on the pillow, I sighed with relief, vowing to never eat chocolate covered ants again. 

I shut my eyes. 

Clickety Clack!

Horrid screams filled the night air.  The creatures surrounded our bed.  Roused from sleep, Emily demonstrated a healthy set of lungs with her explosive cries. 

“Go away!” I yelled.

One of the creatures lowered its head near Emily’s nose. 

I couldn’t allow my wife to die for my mistake. 

“Hey dumb ass! Eat me!”

But the rotten scoundrels ignored me and tore my wife to pieces.

 

Too bad the authorities didn’t believe me.  The sound of the cell door sliding open made my heart sink. 

“It’s time for your execution, Carl.”

I turned to find a priest waiting with an officer. 

“Please, Father, I didn’t do it.”

The gray haired gentleman frowned.  “Son, if they hadn’t pumped your stomach and found pieces of your wife’s heart, I could have believed you.”

The officer uttered, “Time to die, sucker!”

The walk to the deathbed seemed like hours.  Each step felt as if a ton of steel weighed my feet into quicksand.  After the medical personnel strapped me in and triggered the poison to run through my veins, the priest said, “Do you have anything to say to society, or at least to your wife’s family?”

I nodded.  “Eat me!”

Then I heard it.

Clickity Clack!

The security guard yelled, “What the hell is that!”

Large shadows crept in, darkening the bright room. 

The priest yanked out the tubes feeding me poison.  He cried, “What do we do?”

One beast tore the officer apart. 

The doctor and nurse both screamed until their shouts were replaced by torn flesh and bones.  As the giant ants surrounded us, I gripped the priest’s hands and said, “Do what I do.” 

His sweaty palms slipped off me.  As one of the creatures lowered its head over his, I yelled, “Eat me!”  The priest repeated the phrase and the monsters faded into the shadows. 

Now, Father Ryan and I share the same cell, waiting for our day to die.  Society thinks we’re cannibals.  Our next execution is slated for prime time television on All Hollows Eve in the year 2012.  That’s the night everyone will see that we’re not monsters.  The giant ants exist and they cloak themselves in the shadows.  If you don’t believe me, eat chocolate covered ants and yell, “Eat me!”  You’ll hear them coming. 

Clickity Clack! 

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2011. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Chupa Cabra: Friend or Foe

Let’s put aside any personal feelings we may have about the existence of the creature called the Chupa Cabra. Eyewitness reports have more or less described a creature about four feet in height with a canine or boar’s snout and black in color. Some witnesses claimed the creature can fly and has wings. Regardless of sightings that seem to be seasonal in nature throughout warm climate locations, the possibility of the beast being a hybrid of some kind has ignited creative interpretations which have turned the beast into a legend.

I have personally interviewed two people who claim to have encountered the strange creature that others deemed the Chupa Cabra. One man came face to face with the terrifying creature while working in a dairy. The other heard a commotion in his yard, expecting to ward off thieves. Imagine his surprise upon discovering the culprit wasn’t human. I promise to detail these accounts in a short story that I’ll submit to a new medium called Chupacabra Magazine. In the meantime, I’d like to share a rumor I heard a few years ago.

Why the Chupa Cabra Doesn’t Attack Humans


In beautiful Puerto Rico, under a cloak of darkness, a drunk who worked in a dairy farm fell asleep. He awoke yelling and cursing because something bit his neck. A noise coupled with a stinging pain, set off his internal alarm that something malicious stood near. He discovered a wound as some blood stained his fingers. He rose from the chair with flashlight in hand and discovered a black creature with red angry eyes backing away from him. The drunk noted that in spite of his height advantage, his instincts were to retreat as well, too stunned to take his eyes off the strange creature, he said, “What are you?”

Their encounter was brief because instead of the beast charging at the man, it appeared to ascend into the trees. At first he thought it was a monkey, but the more he tried to recall the creature’s features, the more he understood, nothing like it was known to man. Nevertheless, the encounter left the man with two puncture wounds in his neck.

His boss arrived with the rising sun and when he examined the frighten man’s wounds, chuckled. “Looks like you got bitten by a vampire bat.”

They made light of the event until they spotted a cow lying on the ground. It wasn’t long before they discovered the cow was lifeless and had two puncture wounds similar to the drunkard. When they sliced open the cow they discovered it was drained of all its blood.

Rumor has it that because the Chupa Cabra attacked an alcoholic, it dislikes the taste of man and that’s why it hasn’t attacked another human since.

Of course, the rumor cannot be collaborated, but like myths, it is entertaining to the rest of us. I’m sure the drunkard would disagree with our assessment. So next time you’re in the wilderness. Watch out for the creature with the devil’s eyes. You may come face to face with the legendary Chupa Cabra.

See you on the dark side.

Nomar Knight

Monsters Need Jobs Too

I stepped inside the unemployment office expecting people to react to my presence. Instead, I found everyone worrying about their own problems and distracting themselves with the latest gadgets. I waited behind a tall teenager with spikes for hair. His jeans looked like they were shot with an Uzi sub-machine gun. The random holes showed pale skin. He bobbed his head as if he had Parkinson’s. A set of skull faced headphones covered his ears. I thought about asking him to turn the music down when I noticed a foul odor. A woman in her mid fifties stood behind me jabbing her fingers in one of those high tech phones.

I loosened my shirt collar, annoyed that the multitude of destitute souls soaked up the air-conditioning. I decided to see if I could freak her out so I faced the woman and asked, “Excuse me Miss, but do you have the time?”

Without glancing at me she said, “It’s eight o’clock.”

I almost fell back when her breath hit my face. I wanted to peek inside her mouth to verify if she had a dead possum in there. Disappointment struck me again. I longed for the old days when my life had purpose. The fact she didn’t react to my charred face irked me. About forty-five minutes later, I stood in front of a Plexiglas window trying to look through the clerk’s dark glasses.

“I need your name and social security number.” The woman’s voice revealed she was three packs away from dying of lung cancer.

I gave her my number, but not my name.

Looking at her computer screen, the old lady said, “It says your name is Bogey Man.”

“No, that’s Boogey Man.”

She sighed, “What did you dedicate your life to doing?”

“Exactly what the name implies. I was a boogey man.”

She took off her glasses, rose from a chair and gazed into my eyes. “You don’t look scary to me.”

I balled my hands into fists, tempted to punch a hole through the glass. “I’m here because kids don’t believe in me anymore. All this damn technology’s driving me crazy!”

The crowd’s murmurs stopped. I hadn’t realized I was shouting. Lowering my tone I continued, “I used to hide under the bed and even tried shaking the darn thing, but the freakin’ kids played their video games, or stayed talking on cell phones for hours. Eventually, hiding under the bed turned into sleeping under the bed. So I tried hiding in the closet and making noises. They couldn’t hear me with all the loud music coming out of their ears!”

I had attempted to stop raising my voice, but I couldn’t. The woman put her glasses back on and sat down. She gathered a few forms and shoved them at me. “Fill these out. Times are bad. There aren’t enough jobs to go around.”

I wiped sweat off my brow and tried not to sound desperate, “There has to be something I could do.”

The old lady grimaced. I couldn’t tell if she was thinking or constipated. “There are two positions you might qualify for.” She struck the keyboard with two fingers. “You can become a priest which takes time to train.”

I knew most priests were good men, but after a lifetime of scaring children, I didn’t want to be labeled that kind of monster. “What’s the other position?”

She leaned toward the glass and gestured for me to get closer. “This is unofficial of course, but the government is looking for ugly guys like you who won’t mind torturing terrorists.” She flicked her fingers to create quotes around the word terrorists.

At last I could feel hope oozing out of my hairy pores. “How much does the job pay?”

She said, “You get room and board in a cell next to the captured heathens, a thousand dollars a month in expenses and all the sex you can muster with that woman.” She pointed at possum breath.

So it came down to becoming what many people distrusted—priesthood, or doing the zombie. “I’ll be a torturer.”

The clerk smiled and when I faced zombie breath again, she batted her eyes at me. I mumbled, “Oh goody.”


- 703 words