Chapter 10 - Something On The Roof
The heavy scratching sound overhead stopped abruptly, followed by a heavy, deliberate thud right above the front cash register. The ceiling drywall groaned under an immense weight, showering the room in a fresh flurry of dust and plaster.
Arthur instinctively dropped back down behind the counter, pulling his knees to his chest. Henderson fell back against a rack of hand tools, whimpering softly as he stared up at the sagging ceiling tiles. The man in the dark suit raised his pistol, aiming directly at the center of the room, his breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts.
Harold remained standing tall, his eyes locked on the ceiling, his grip on the deadman’s frequency rock-steady. "It's testing the perimeter," Harold murmured softly, as if speaking to himself. "It knows the seal is broken."
"Shoot it! Do something!" Henderson cried out, his voice cracking with panic.
"If you fire a gun in here, you'll bring the whole roof down on top of us," Harold warned without turning around. "And worse—you'll draw every other one of them from a mile around."
Slowly, a thin, multi-jointed appendage tipped with a razor-sharp, chitinous claw pushed its way down through a gap in the broken drywall. It tested the air, tasting the chemical scent of the green fog that was now seeping into the building through the shattered front windows. The appendage curled and twitched, blindly searching for a target in the dim strobe light.
Arthur held his breath, pressing his hand over his mouth to silence the sound of his own breathing. His eyes locked onto the brass key resting on the counter just inches away from his hand. The key he had fought so hard to copy, the key that represented his ordinary, safe life, was now the only tool capable of locking away an unimaginable nightmare.
"Arthur," Harold whispered, his voice dangerously low. "Reach out. Grab the key. Take my vest."
Arthur shook his head frantically in the darkness, tears of sheer frustration and terror leaking from his eyes. "I can't! I'm just a clerk! I have a family!"
"Your family is fifty miles away in the city," Harold said, his tone softening with an intense, paternal urgency. "And they will burn right along with everyone else if we don't get that bunker sealed before dawn. Grab the key, Arthur. Now."
The suit agent watched them both, his eyes darting between the crawling appendage above and the two men at the counter. A cold, calculating gleam entered his eyes. Without a word of warning, the agent grabbed a heavy iron pipe from a nearby display rack and hurled it directly at the front window, smashing the remaining glass and sprinting toward the exit into the green fog.
"Traitor!" Henderson screamed, but before the chief could move, the appendage on the ceiling whipped downward with terrifying speed.
May you like
In a fraction of a second, the claw descended like a striking serpent, wrapped itself securely around the agent’s throat, and yanked him straight up through the ceiling with a sickening crunch of bone and a muffled, desperate gurgle.
---
