The Damned Beasts

Ely dusted off his filthy hands and looked out at the trees dotting the horizon. It was a beautiful place here. The tiny house sat in the middle of a large field of freshly cut grass surrounded by a beautiful forest. He could hear the birds chirping in the distance and the sun shown high in the sky, almost blinding him as he watched a robin fly overhead. One rarely had the time to notice such beauty; a break from the chaos was rare but today had been calm.

He went back to checking the barb wire he had placed around the perimeter, making sure there were no breaks or debris. It offered very little protection, however it gave him comfort in the fact that it would slow the hoard of damned that came with nightfall. It didn't take long for him to finish checking the little he had left and he headed back to the small farm house.

After checking behind him once more, he walked to the end of the porch that stretched across the front of the house and pulled on a taught string. He heard a bell ring from the other side of the boarded up window in front of him and gave a small nod in approval. As he walked towards the front door, he checked the floorboards with his feet for strength noticing one that didn't support his weight as well as the others. He took a mental note to keep an eye on that one.

Once inside, he shut the hand-crafted steel door shut and fastened the first lock, then the next, then the next. He walked over to a small table in front of the window near the bell and grabbed a small pad of paper and whittled down pencil. He scribbled a few notes on it, 'replace loose board on porch, install another lock.'

He went to the kitchen and checked the sink for dishes. He washed the plate, fork and glass from the sink in an old plastic paint bucket of soapy water. He dried them with a moth-eaten rag and placed them in their respective places inside the cabinets. Tomorrow he would dump today's water over the garden he had raised in the backyard. He felt it was safe there thanks to the cinder block wall he had built around it that stood two stories tall, being level with the roof of the house.

The old grandfather clock rang, announcing that it was seven o'clock at night and Ely saved the page in the book he had been reading. He removed his glasses, placing them gingerly in his shirt pocket and headed upstairs to the guest room. He had stored his rifles and loose supplies here after having destroyed the bed long ago and used it as a hasty barricade. Now only egg crates filled with ammo, spare mechanical parts, and other various items littered the room along with the gun rack he had fashioned out of an old grocery store stand.

He grabbed a pump shotgun off of the middle rack and inspected it thoroughly for any damages or lack of ammo and slung the worn strap over his shoulder. He headed back downstairs stopping as he reached the bottom to admire an old photograph of a woman. She was wearing a yellow sundress and her shining red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail that lay over her shoulder. Her bright blue eyes reflected the sun and her smile appeared angelic to Ely. He kissed his fingers and pressed them to the glass of the frame and continued to the living room.

---

He had begun to doze off at a quarter to nine when he heard the bell ring. He sat up quickly and grabbed the shotgun close to his chest. No matter how often he had gone through these same motions, he never got quite used to it. He walked to the window, insuring every step was as quiet as possible, and looked out the small hole in the wood he had reinforced with a thick sheet of clear acrylic. There was an old pick-up truck out by the dirt road that was barely visible in the black of night and he watched as a shadow stood from where it had been bent beside the back tire of it. The truck must have run over his barbed wire and a small amount of glee came to him when he realized his small comfort had some purpose.

He continued to watch with rising anticipation as the shadow began to descend on the house. He took the safety off of the shotgun, struggling a bit with his sweat-covered mitts. When the shadow came into view he saw a woman that resembled the one in his photograph. His eyes widened and as the creature neared the porch and he swiftly ran to the door.

He heard the creaks of the porch as the creature stepped across it. He became aware of the sweat that had been forming on his brow as a drop blinded his eyes momentarily. A knock. He didn't move, only stood in place staring at the door. A moment later, another knock came and he did nothing still. A third knock came and he came out of his daze as he heard a voice. It was feminine.

"Ely?" The creature asked as if it believed it had the wrong address.
He was stunned. They had used his name before, but this was the first time they had impersonated a female. How horrible of them to impersonate his beloved wife. He took a step closer to the door.
"Ely, I know you're in there." The voice called out again.
"Go away!" He shouted back though it was not necessary, his voice cracked from lack of use.
The creature sighed heavily and spoke again. "I'm going nowhere, let me in."
"You're dead, I saw it!" He looked through the peep hole of the door to view the creature better. They were perfect imitations of people, so much so that he would have believed they were real had they not shown their true selves to him so many times before.
"No you didn't! For god sakes, let me in! I need to talk to you." It's voice was angry now.
"You came here to talk, did'ja? Well we can talk just fine through this door." He thought to himself of how clever the line was.
"Fine." The creature gave in. "You need to come out of there. You can't stay locked up forever."
"I do just fine, thank you. I have everything I need right here. I won't let you turn me into one of you."

He knew this would be a long one and grabbed the rocking chair from behind him and turned it towards the door, sitting down with his gun still pointed at the door. The creature seemed to reach a more comfortable state outside and sighed deeply. They sat in quiet for a short while before Ely decided to question the creature.

"So why Emily this time?"
"Huh?" The creature sounded confused.
"You've never imitated my wife before. Why now?"
"I am your wife, Ely!"
"Bullshit!" He was instantly furious with its lie. "When the one that resembled Joe came- by the way, great disguise that time- at least it was more believable. I watched my wife die in front of me when one of you took her."
"God damnit, Ely! When will you listen to me! I'm trying to help you!" The creature's pitch broke just like Emily's would.
"Oh? And you can help me? How would you do that?" He chuckled.
Silence again. The creature spoke more, trying to convince Ely that it was truly his wife but the more it spoke, the less he listened until he grew tired of its games.
"This has been fun, but you need to leave or else I'll have to come out there and handle you myself."
The creature laughed. "What are you talking about?"

Ely began to unlock the door, one after the next, and flung the door open in a fit of maniacal rage and pumped the gun. The creature gasped and stumbled back, falling as it reached the steps. It landed on the packed dirt walkway with a thud and let out a blood-curdling scream. He pushed through the doorway and pointed at the creature. The gunshot resounded through the trees and the birds that sang proudly earlier vacated the trees in a hurry.

---

The next morning, Ely began to clean the mess from the night before. He buried the creature near the forest and turned the dirt on the walkway to hide the blood. If the other creatures saw it, they would come after him in hordes. He remembered to gather the keys to the truck and drove it around back to strip the parts for his own vehicle and fixed the barbwire once again. He replaced the fishing line he had hooked to the bell.

It was nightfall again before he knew it and due to his late-night visitor, he hadn't had time to fix the loose board on the porch or install the extra lock on the front door. He put it out of mind and locked up the house once more. He read his novel in the living room from his comfortable reclining chair. He waited for the clock to chime seven and gathered his shotgun once more from the room upstairs. He stopped and admired his wife hanging beautifully on the wall, encased in glass that he kissed once more.

Soon, it was eight o'clock and the grandfather clock rang as it always did every hour. However, this time he could not hear it over the sirens from outside. He gathered his gun from beside the chair and looked through the hole in the boarded window to see a police car on the dirt road near where the old truck had been that was barely visible in the black of night and he watched as two shadows exited the vehicle and examined the back tires. The car must have run over his barbed wire and a small amount of glee came to him when he realized his small comfort had some purpose…

Author's Note

A short story I typed out in a couple of hours. I may not edit it because I love how it turned out but any review is much appreciated.

Reviews

[Raymond]

I'm a fan of stories I consider to have the "twilight zone" effect. Those who endings leave you with the question of "was it real or is the character insane." Many readers want an answer to the question...I don't. So like your other work, I enjoy both your content and your style. I do think (and I hate critqueing other writers) that some of the more details could be shortened along with some of the sentences. I don't think that would detract from your story or your style but would help the pace of the read. Good stuff though, you definately have talent.