Bring The Reign

For my buddy CJ. I think you'll enjoy this almost as much as I didn't.

Samael's heart was poudning so hard with anticipation he thought it would beat a hole out of his chest. The cold, merciless chains held him back from pouncing on the strange looking men and women in white coats. His hope was quickly fading as he flipped through any possible means of escape from this God-forsaken place. As if he even knew where he was. One of the men, most likely the one who started this whole 'mind control' business, stepped forward but in such a way that it somehow chilled him to the bone.

"You shouldn't try to move," the man said in a deep frosty voice.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Samael through gritted teeth. "You're making a huge mistake!"

The man only smirked, which gave Samael the impression that he'd heard that line too many times to count. Samael felt his anger rising. He knew he could break free. It was so easy. All he had to do was time his actions exactly right. How he'd longed to not feel the need to kill. How he lost all conciousness whenever he 'changed.' Well, that's what the doctors called it.

"The only mistake would be allowing you to live," said the man.

It had been over two years since the last transformation. Now he did not feel the resentment. No more did he want to be considered human. He drooled over the thought of 'becoming a monster.' Samael was generally considered a gentle guy and made the expression "wouldn't hurt a fly seem an extreme understatement. But no more. He felt the final moment arrive like gas being ignited with a single spark. As he bared his teeth he could feel his canine senses activate in his body and invade his mind.

"Well then," drool already dripping from the corners of his mouth. "Let's have some fun." 

He almost smiled as everything went black.

 

 

 

It was over. The worst part was that he knew it was over. Returning wasn't his favorite part about changing, to say the least. He knew what was coming so why did he fear it every single time?

"Okay," he sighed. Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes. It was then that he remembered why he feared the transformation.

Blood. It was everywhere, ranging in sizes from tiny droplets to joint pools staining every surface it touched. The walls, lab coats, it didn't matter, it was all drenched in crimson. Equipment was shattered, smashed, and ripped by at least four parallel tears in almost every concievable angle.

And the bodies. The bodies of those poor men and women. The ones who didn't want to be there in the first place hurt Samael the most. As he walked around, he saw that faces were basically gone, necks with deep menacing bites. Some bodies had hole where lungs or hearts should have safely remained. Others would never be discerned as bodies at all.

"Damn!" he whispered aloud. "There's no one left alive...nothing!"

Their blood was still clinging to his hands. It caressed the regions of his mouth like a toddler who clumsily eats a crimson snowcone and spilt it half down his front, dripping from his chin.

"I'mmm gonna leave." As if someone was still alive to hear him. He took a step toward the neon EXIT sign, only to freeze with total dread of a moment he liked to call an 'oops' moment and yes, he just 'oopsed' his pants.

"Oh s**t! Cameras!"

Reviews

[Emily Quinn]

I really like the snowcone analogy and all of your descriptions created great imagery.At the beginning I was intrigued because of the air of mystery (with the mind control etc) Funny ending :) great job