Venom: Hush.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 5 (v.1) - Chapter 04 – Like A Cocoon.

Submitted: March 21, 2011

Reads: 164

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Submitted: March 21, 2011



Chapter 04 – Like A Cocoon.


At once, Katrina sat up. Everything came flooding back to her, like an ocean’s wave crashing over a tranquil beach. “Oh,” she muttered in sheer disappointment. She followed her friend downstairs where the news reporter was informing everyone to pay careful attention.

“See? You see?! I’m not crazy! This wasn’t my imagination,” Fleur was blabbering hysterically, and pointing at the television. She inched backwards to sit on the sofa and hiccupped.

“It’s alright, they’ll send someone to help,” Katrina assured her friend, took a place next to her and put an arm around her. “Shush, shush … don’t worry. You see that? We have to seek the nearest authority. Like the Police … yeah… we have to tell somebody.”

There were screams and crashing sounds coming from the outside now, and they both jumped, glaring at the window. They couldn’t see anything properly because the semi transparent netted curtain was covering the window – and the hedges weren’t low enough – and the sky had gotten darker outside.

Their attention was brought back to the television and they listened intently. The female news anchor continued to read out from the teleprompter. “And the Government is doing their best to see this problem. An important announced will be made by the…”

Fleur cried out loud at how close the crash was from the outside. “What is going on out there?!” she screamed and ran to see. She opened the door and disappeared outside.

Katrina was breathing faster now and she tried to calm her nerves once more, and try to hear what the news reporter was trying to say, but the screams and roaring erupted. She got up and hurried outside to see where Fleur had gone off to.

Fleur was standing outside of the gate and on the footpath, opening her mouth to scream but only a croak escaped. She pointed up ahead the path, soundlessly fell to her knees and started to wheeze. Her breathing steadied after inhaling from her inhaler.

Wide eyed, Katrina rushed to her side and knelt on her heels to help her friend up. “Oh, my goodness, are you alright?!” she asked with strong apprehension. She brushed her poor friend’s dark brown hair away from her face and helped her up. She was about to guide her back into the house when she saw blood.

A blue car had crashed into a public bus, or it might have been the other way around. But what mostly caught her attention was what was going on inside the bus. Blood was being splattered everywhere. People were fighting for their lives as their flesh was being ripped from their limbs.

Nausea bumbled up inside her and she turned her gaze away, only to have it back there again. She felt like screaming for help but someone had already called up for help. A far away cry of a siren came into focus when the car turned around the corner, driving at top speed onto their street. A sense of relief spread through her.

Fleur couldn’t take her eyes away from the bloody spectacle in front of her, in front of both of them. “E – Even t – the children,” she groaned, and she dry heaved. She leant over and threw up on the road. “Even the ch – children, Katrina!” she cried and stood up, ready to run after the screaming people and towards the screaming monsters.

Katrina pulled her back into the front garden and locked the gate. “Stay inside!” she told her friend.

“Those bastard people are killing the kids as well as everyone else!” she gasped in between sobs. She sat on the ground. “I saw one of them do it! It was a … a … one of those bloody mutants we saw at work this morning. He … she … the bastard took the kid and bit his arm! S - Sucking out the b – b – blood!” She was shrieking by now and was quickly growing out of breath again.

Katrina checked the time on her watch and it told her that it was almost five o’clock in the afternoon. It was winter after all, so the days were shorter and darker.

Suddenly, a strong blur whooshed by, startling her and she whipped her head to see what it was. Just then the Police car screeched to a halt and two Policemen climbed out. The female Police authority was talking into her radio before she hurried over to Katrina, and the other male Policeman ran over to help the others.

“Ladies, are either of you injured?” the woman demanded, scrutinising them carefully. “Have you been scratched anywhere? Have the infected touched you?!”

“No, neither of us has been in contact with them,” Katrina answered desperately, “What’s going on? Why is this happening? We don’t understand.”

“We have everything under control, Miss.”

“Some control,” Katrina heard Fleur mutter under her breath mordantly.
“Stay inside. Keep all windows and door locked at all times until further notice. Understand?” She ordered and rushed to join the other Policeman.

Katrina opened the gate again and watched the ambulances arrive, but what happened next made her sick to her stomach. The police officers were being attacked instead; blood bubbled out from their wounds and screams echoed. Was that how the infection was spreading? Something clicked in her head. This was like some sort of contagious virus.

She caught a movement to her left and saw more raging howls and hissing sounds from behind her. A large throng of those mutant blood-suckers were running closing in on them. She needed to get back inside. No matter how much she wanted to help the victims, her instincts told her to go inside the house. She was too weak to help anyone but herself and Fleur. There were too many raging lunatics that used to be humans also, whom had turned hysterical. Indeed, this was a nightmare that nobody wanted to be a part of, but some handled it by losing a few screws.

She had rushed herself and her hysterical friend inside the house, just in time to see the grotesque figures of the blood-sucking creatures run past her house from the spy-hole. She locked the door quickly, then she went to the back of the house and made sure all the windows and the backdoor – as well as the door on the backyard – was locked. She went back in the rechecked the windows of the living-room.

Fleur was back inside the little gap between the two arms of the sofas, like a butterfly inside her protective cocoon. “Turn off the lights!” she cried, “For crying out loud, just turn off the lights!”

“What will that accomplish?” Katrina asked desperately, not understanding the request.

She checked the window and saw that the ‘infected’ – like the policewoman had addressed the blood-suckers – had climbed on top of the ambulance. They were banging and punching all around it until they got what they wanted, which were the people inside the van. She knew this because at first, there were sounds of glass shattering that soon followed by agonizing cries of pain. Horrible gurgling could be heard and more blood was soon spilt without a doubt.

The news reporter was still talking on the television. “…They have seemed to have adapted to the night. Their system somehow has turned nocturnal, like the owls,” the woman urged firmly.

Katrina promptly turned off the lights and closed the curtains after she caught a slightly shuffle and bump on the front door from the outside. Her eyes widened in fear and made eye contact with her hiding friend.

Fleur moved out halfway and whispered for her to hide at once. But Katrina was too curious. “What if it’s someone who needs help?” she mouthed back.

“No, come back,” her friend whispered back desperately. “It’s one of those things!”

Katrina laid her index on her lips and tiptoed to look through the eyehole. She saw one of them breathing heavily just outside her window. “Shit,” she said inaudibly. Fear overwhelmed her to the point that her blood ran cold.

It grinned as if it had seen her; nevertheless, it had most likely smelt her human scent. Its sharp fang-like teeth were shining with blood. Its eyes were bleeding and red, like burning fire. Or the roundness of the eyes could have been emphasised because of the distorted vision through the tiny glass. More blood ran down its eyes as tears would.

She could hear a rattling noise and realised that it was the doorknob. Soon the thing behind the door started to attack the door and the wooden door trembled against the hits. She stumbled back as the door started to crack, making the peephole shake and start to loosen from the hold from the fault. Her breaths became ragged and shallow despite her tries to be as unnoticeable as she could manage.

“Katrina, where are you?” Fleur called frantically from the living-room.

“Shh! They’re here!” Katrina warned in a harsh whisper. “Stay quiet.” She stood still as the peephole finally shook one last time and fell onto the floor, and as if in slow-motion, bounced a couple of times on the carpet.

She took hesitant steps towards the door when she couldn’t hear or see anything. As she got closer and closer to the now empty space of the whole in the door and waited. When nothing happened and was going to move back, the hole was replaced by the eye of the creature that was trying to break down the door again. It grew angrier in rage as it watched its prey. More and more howls and hisses mingled with the banging.

“They found us!” Fleur cried from her place. “Oh, God, they’re here!”

A bloody grayish-white hand crashed through the cracked, wooden door and caused her to scream in trepidation and adrenaline. She watched in horror as the door steadily become weaker and weaker in protection. Every hit, every crack, and every splinter was a realization to her; how could she save herself and her friend? There were too many of them.

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