The Confluence

The Confluence Part XI

Its oval head was facing him, and all that stared out of it was a bubbling void, a void that only knew hunger. It began to stand, looming up to the fifteen foot tall ceiling, dropping what was left of the corpse with a wet crack. Adrian brought the shotgun into both hands, and howled as he pulled the trigger. One of the thing's horrifically skeletal and long arms was reaching out towards him, and as fire licked the edge of the barrel of the shotgun, the creature's arm was shredded right off at the elbow. Yellowish, curdy fluid spurted out the stump, and then this low pitched mewling began to reverberate out of the things liquid face. Adrian sucked in a breath as he yanked the pump action down and back up again with a satisfying click, and gritted his teeth. He squeezed the trigger again, this time practically flaying the skin of the thing's shoulder, the pus like fluid dripping out the massive wound on its shoulder. The thing howled its guttural scream, and started slumping down. It's uninjured arm slashing out for Adrian. The things wickedly sharp claws tore at Adrian, and sliced right through his jacket and shirt, and its claws scraped against his ribs under his armpit. He gasped, the pain flaring out on his side. But he pumped the shotgun again, and with another yell he leveled the shotgun point blank at the things head and fired. The buckshot ripped a hole straight through the backside of the creature's head; viscous fluid spraying out the back, painting the wall behind it with jet black goo. The liquid in the things head all sloshed out of it, dripping down into the water of the canal as its head slumped down. The wall that had been covered with the black liquid began to bubble and sizzle, as if it was eating away the stone wall. The same black goo had pooled on top of the water, and had begun to spread. Adrian was staring at the thing's head. The inside was perfectly shaped, as if the "face" was merely a basin for the black goo. He was jolted out of his horrific curiosity by a small sizzling sound, and he looked down, and saw the black goo floating its way towards him on top of the water was starting to eat away his coat. Splashing frantically, Adrian stripped off his coat, and then gripped the edge of the catwalk and hauled himself up out of the water. Gasping for air and eyes rolling in his head, he was trying his best to look anywhere but at the two corpses. He stumbled over to the low concrete wall, dripping with stinking grey water. He nearly collapsed against it, leaning into the wall against his back. The cold stone was almost relieving against his feverishly sweating neck and head. He felt his gut loosen, then tighten uncontrollably as vomit surged up out of his mouth in a thin hot torrent. Coughing and spitting, Adrian rolled numbly against the wall, limping and stumbling his way deeper in the sewers. The gash in his side burned with pain as Adrian kept his right hand on it to slow the bleeding. He held the shotgun loosely in his left hand, sometimes using it to steady himself as he trudged. The small rectangle that made up the concrete room had only two entrances, the one Adrian had entered from, and one at the opposite end, that was shrouded in darkness. Adrian groaned, as he suddenly realized he dropped his flashlight into the sewer water. Jarringly he remembered he had brought his glowsticks with him... in his fucking coat. Sighing, Adrian gazed behind him. He saw only the dimly lit nightmare carnage behind him. I can't let that be me, his mind gibbered repeatedly when he saw again the bloody skeletal half-remains. He turned once again, facing the yawning dark ahead of him. What the fuck is happening here?

He stepped forward, shifting the shotgun to his right hand and using his left hand to feel ahead of him. His footsteps echoed hollowly, and he brushed his hand to his left, and he felt as the smooth stone shifted to the sharp and rough edges of a cave wall. He blindly stumbled as he went into the dark that got colder and colder with every step. His heart thumped wildly at every small sound that echoed. He constantly thought he saw thin grey limbs in the dark, scuttling around in his peripheral vision. Every echo was something predatory, something blindly senseless, only wanting to snuff him out. Adrian's ragged breathing was all he could hear. He held the shotgun out directly ahead of him and blindly walked forward.