The Devil's End
Page 33
“My God!” Carol exclaimed, her wineglass slipping from her fingers and tumbling over on its side, soaking the tablecloth with a bloodred stain.
“She’s gonna explode!” Luke yelled, both horrified and delighted. He scrambled out of his chair and backed into a far corner, not wanting to get hit by the spray of guts and organs.
Hugh bolted for the wall phone to call 911, cursing when he got a busy signal.
Lana had dropped her own glass on the floor and was now gripping the arms of her chair, grimacing deeply with her teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. Her belly continued to expand, straining against the fabric of her flannel shirt until the buttons popped off, baring the growing mound and her breasts to the shocked stares of her family and Bruce.
“Lana!” Carol sprang from her chair, knocking it over. Her face a mask of hysteria, she rushed to her daughter’s side with the intention of pulling the shirt together over Lana’s exposed chest, but by the time Carol reached her, Lana’s shameful exposure was already covered by her still-growing belly. Standing a few feet away, Hugh again cursed loudly at another busy signal.
Carol clutched the sides of her head, totally at a loss as to what she should do. “What IS that? Why is this happening to her? Oh GOD!”
“Wow!” Luke shouted from the corner. “Her gut’s as big as the TV set!”
Carol turned a murderous glare on him. “SHUT UP, LUKE! NOT ONE MORE WORD!”
Bruce was about to suggest sticking Lana’s stomach with a needle or something just in case this was a freak gas attack that really would cause her to explode when Lana’s chair suddenly flew backward, spilling her onto the carpeted floor. Movement could be seen beneath her tightly stretched skin, reminding Bruce of the movie Alien, and of his and Lana’s ludicrous conversation in the park the day before. He felt his testicles crawl up into his body. Didn’t seem so ludicrous now.
“It’s an ALIEN!” he yelled, jumping up from his chair. “Run for your lives!”
But no one moved; they only stared with horror-filled eyes as Lana’s skin went on stretching to accommodate the writhing bulk inside her. Bruce fully expected to see Lana’s skin begin to rip and a slimy green head with two sets of jaws pop out of the hole.
Lana’s tortured moans escalated into screams, and Hugh slammed the receiver down onto the hook. “Hell with it, we’ll take her to the emergency room ourselves.” He strode purposefully toward Lana to pick her up and carry her out to his rented car, but as he was bending over, her 501’s were jerked down around her ankles by unseen hands, her knees lifted and roughly parted wide. Driven back by the forbidden sight of his daughter’s sex as well as the stench emanating from it, Hugh clamped a hand over his mouth and looked strickenly to his wife.
“Oh Jesus, Jesus,” Carol blubbered, groping the table for support. “Something’s coming out!”
With Lana’s piercing screams resounding in their ears, they all watched in petrified silence as a blood-smeared human hand reached out from Lana’s vagina and scrabbled at the carpet. The hand was joined by the crown of a skull, blond hair pasted down with bloody mucus. The moment the head emerged far enough for the mouth to suck in a lungful of air, Lana’s screaming abruptly ceased, her eyes fixed unseeing on the ceiling.
A deep sob wrenched itself from Carol’s throat. “No…please God, No!”
“This can’t be happening,” Hugh breathed.
Bruce was pretty sure he was going to pass out. Luke already had.
Next came the creature’s shoulders with a gush of rank, dark blood, the overstretched tunnel of flesh tearing as they were pushed through. When the posthumous birthing was completed, the newborn creature severed its own umbilical cord with its teeth and stood up between Lana’s legs at a height of nearly four feet, wiping the blood clots from its face. It seemed oblivious to the mortified stares of its observers.
Carol’s brain registered the fact that the thing was an hermaphrodite, having both male and female sex organs. It also had cloven hooves instead of feet—and above the shoulders, Lana’s face.
My grandchild, Carol thought, and immediately began to scream. The child from Hell looked up at her and smiled. A heartbeat later Carol’s eyes exploded, then her body rocketed toward the ceiling, her head and shoulders punching through it. Her arms and legs spasmed for a few moments, then hung limp.
With a cry of rage, Hugh picked up one of the dining room chairs, prepared to hurl it at the unholy creature, but a series of loud snapping sounds brought him to his knees screaming in agony, splintered bones jutting from his forearms and hands.
Bile surged up Bruce’s throat as the snapping sound continued and Hugh’s head began caving in, skull fragments ripping through his scalp. When Bruce saw brain matter oozing from the splits, he promptly bowed over and emptied the contents of his stomach.
“Major bummer, huh?” the creature with Lana’s face said to him mockingly, and Bruce reluctantly raised his head but found that he was too terrified to speak.
The opportunity for last words was soon lost. At first he assumed he was only pissing in his pants—which would be totally understandable—but the front of his khaki shorts was rapidly turning crimson. In blind panic he jerked down his zipper and pulled out his penis to find that blood was gushing from the tip at an alarming if not incredible rate.
“Coming and going!” the creature laughed as Bruce tried desperately—without success—to stop the flow. “Feel good, Brucie?”
Weeping uncontrollably now, Bruce stumbled toward the front door, his thrashing penis spraying blood all over the living room like an unmanned fire hose, going, most definitely going…
…and gone. He was dead before he hit the tiled floor of the entryway.
As the newborn Nephilim stood gazing at his lifeless form, it began to grow again, reaching its full height of nine feet in less than a minute. It turned to stare down at Luke, who was still lying in an unconscious heap in the dining room corner, and for a moment invaded the privacy of the boy’s dream. Surprisingly enough he was having a good one; he and his parents were having a picnic at a beautiful park, and Sam was scampering around the blanket chasing after butterflies. Lana wasn’t there because she was dead, having been crushed by a giant television set.
How sweet.
Luke’s whole body suddenly burst into flame.
The top of its scalp brushing the textured ceiling, the Nephilim stepped over Lana’s right leg and entered the kitchen, where it lowered itself to the floor and lay prone with its legs apart. Later it would go on a fun-filled killing spree, but first there was serious work to be done.
The Master still had a contract to honor.
Its long, massive penis, achieving an instant erection that curved upward to the hairless vagina positioned above it, thrust itself in.
For more vintage horror novels from our ‘Resurrected Horrors’ line,
check out these titles available on Kindle and print on demand:
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DARK VISIONS
by Maxine O’Callaghan
THE BOGEYMAN
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LET THERE BE DARK
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DELIVER US FROM EVIL
by Allen Lee Harris
DISTURB NOT THE DREAM
by Paula Trachtman