A Chance encounter with Cindy

A Story by MCNemesis

Two lovely ladies, a darkened alleyway and a loud bump in the night.

“You were right, Chance. Positive for gunpowder”. The slight female stands erect and sniffs the chemically treated cotton swab. She makes a little face before glancing over at her tall, blonde partner.

Chance c***s an eyebrow and gives an inquisitive look to the smaller brunette.

“Why do you always smell the evidence?”, she asked.

Cindy just shrugs and smiles.

The women continue to search the alleyway for clues. Slowly the picture begins to come into focus.

Chance points to the cobblestone, then further down into the darkness.

“They fought here, and then the victor ran off in that direction”.

Cindy nods, lost in thought. After a moment, she snaps back to reality.

“Right. Uh... what happened to the loser then? I don't see a body anywhere”.

Chance stoops down and examines the alley floor with her magnifying glass. After a moment, she wrinkles her nose and speaks in a low tone.

“I think he or she has been infected”.

Cindy's eyes grow large as saucers. The women exchange glances and pull their long coats a little tighter as if to guard against a sudden chill.

“Do you think it's gotten very far?”, Cindy asks with an audible tremble in her voice.

Chance slowly shakes her head, her face deadly serious.

“No. The blood droplets look fresh and I can still smell a little sulfur in the air”.

Both women jump as a crash is heard in the gloomy darkness. The howl of an alley cat in distress sends a shiver up their spines.

Cindy c***s her crossbow with a slight tremble. Chance puts an arm around her and holds her for a moment.

“Remember your training. Just follow my lead”.

The smaller woman manages a weak smile and quickly nods. With that, the tall blonde readies her own weapon and both begin to advance into the darkness ahead.

A loud crunching sound echos off the walls of the alleyway; Cindy's legs feel like they're made of rubber. A hushed whimper involuntarily escapes her tightly pressed lips as she feels her heart begin to pound in her ears.

Chance glances back with a finger to her lips. Again the little brunette manages a nod, but no smile bubbles to the surface this time.

The women pause as the moonlight seems to give shape to something hunched over in the distance; a vomit inducing stench permeates the area. Quickly pulling their neck scarves over their faces, they press on into the gloom.

Now just a few feet from the object in question, Chance slowly raises her weapon and takes careful aim.

“Speak if you're still human!”, she commands.

The moon-lit form shuffles a tad, then slowly stands erect. Now several heads taller than both women, a low growl is heard before it speaks.

“Huuuuuuuumaaaaaan? Waaaaaas I oncccccce huuuuuuumaaaaaaan?”

With that, the figure's eyes and throat burst into a fiery glow illuminating its terrible face and mouth full of fangs.

Cindy screams and moistens the cloth between her legs. She fires wild, striking the creature in the shoulder with her crossbow bolt.

“Cindy, wait... get control...”, Chance' words are cut short as the beast reaches out and wraps a tendril around her throat.

Cindy descends into hysterics and is frozen in place by fear. Her alarming screams soon cut short by another tendril wrapping around her face.

Chance struggles to reach the blade tucked into her long boot, but additional tendrils snake around her body and render her immobile.

Mercifully, Cindy's eyes roll into the back of her head as her hysteria renders her unconscious. Chance struggles with all her might, but is held fast in the monster's grip.

Slowly, both women are drawn closer and closer to the great gaping maw of the beast. Torrents of faintly glowing saliva drip from between its many fangs as it prepares for its female feast.

A shot rings out in the night; the nightmare lets out a scream. Another shot echos, then another and another. Chance feels the tendrils around her loosen and abate. Struggling free, she reaches for her revenge.

Moments later, her crossbow payload strikes the creature square in the eye. Mortally wounded by bullets and bolts, it lets out a final howl before finally giving up the ghost.

A single white rose falls to the earth not far from Cindy. Chance glances to a nearby overpass in time to see a white figure dart away.

“Alexander”, she mutters to herself. “I hate being saved by men”.

Cindy sputters back to life; the blonde kneels and pauses for a moment before gently reassuring her. The nightmare is over for now.