Surviving Pandora's Box

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Be0wulf steps into the realm of Horror with Pandora's Box. This story follows a young man on a challenge to survive, his enemy a wraithlike beast built to kill.

Submitted: September 20, 2008

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Submitted: September 20, 2008

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Richard struggled to force his legs forward, the immense weight of fatigue upon his back. He hadn’t slept till Wednesday, August 11th 2012, 4:58 A.M. He remembered exactly when the lights went out, the whole of southeastern Europe going dark. Someone had made a discovery, one to rival that of the Ark, you might say. They found a painting, one of Jesus’ crucifixion, and a box with odd drawings on it. Somewhere a handgun fired, soon after that a scream. This one was closer.
“Hey, intersection comin’ up. Watch your sector.” Adam grunted, and soon after regurgitated on the pavement, his body barely able to function. Richard and Adam reached the end of the wall they were following and fell onto it, resting for a bit before crossing. Richard could feel Adam’s hand on his back through his body armor, which was in passive mode. He could barely hold his rifle up. His heart pounded a thousand drums in his head and ears. There were cars and bodies strewn about the road, electronics killed by the nuke, the people killed by other things. There was really no way to describe it; they were too fast to get a good look at, and if you did you were probably dead anyways. A shadow sped across the ground just in front of Richard, something with a long, galloping stride and spear-like appendages, something built to kill and only kill. Adam shrieked, his hand leaving Richards back, trying to grab a hold of something, anything. Richard gritted his teeth and spun around, catching a glimpse of Adam’s legs, his body being dragged into an ally way, leaving a thick blood trail. Richard “pied” the corner of the ally only to find the blood trail saturating the ground, and eventually leading up a building into a window on the second story. The stories Richard had heard about Pandora’s Box included only Vampires and Werewolves. Apparently, the whole of Europe had no other thing to compare this beast to other than a man-wolf, or a human who fed on the flesh and blood of others. That was nothing compared to these things. America and England tried to save as many as they could, but eventually had to quarantine Iran, where they found the Box. They had to keep the things where they were, so they disabled transportation systems with EMP, setting off a nuke in the stratosphere. Somewhere inside the building Adam screamed. Richard was crying, a warm trail running down his legs. He kept his back to a wall, advancing on the door. Richard was shaking, forcing himself to muster up the courage to enter this building. No one gets left behind, he thought. If I die, so be it. I cannot go against God’s will. Richard took one deep breath, wiped his eyes, and opened the door. It was almost pitch black, and Richard’s NVGs and light didn’t work, thanks to the EMP. He rushed through the doorway, keeping his exposure to a minimum. There was a staircase directly to his left, illuminated by the light from the ally. He creeped forward and reached the top of the flight of stairs. There was a rustling to his left, and some empty cans fell.
“Rober-”
“Richard” someone said in a low, guttural voice, if you could even call it that. At first it got his name wrong, but it sounded like Adams’ pronunciation of his name. Richard paused mid-step and swept his rifle across the walls. He could hardly see. To Richards right was a long hallway, and squinting his eyes, he managed to find Adam, propped up against the wall. It was using his body as bait. Suddenly, the beast burst into motion, revealing its hiding place. It was on the ceiling of the wall, rushing towards him with ungodly speed. Richard emptied his magazine into it, his muzzle flash revealing the thing in all its hideous glory. Richard turned and ran to an open closet, slammed himself inside and shut the door. He waited for the thing to smash through but nothing happened. He waited a good two minutes, then slumped down on the floor, forgetting he was missing his sidearm and going for the holster only to find nothing there. He stopped, sensing something was wrong.
 
“Richard,” something said above him.


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