Terrestrial Alien ✔

Chapter 32: Biting Back

Joshua

I'm being chased.

I'm running all over again, and I know it's the monster behind me. I can hear its panting breaths, feel its claws at my heels. I scrabble desperately at the sand beneath me, trying to get away, but in the way of dreams, I can't get any farther, despite all my efforts.

I can feel the creature right above me now, and I whirl around to face it, my heart knocking hard against my chest.

It isn't the monster. At least, not Seth's monster.

It's Perkins. His mouth full of garbled teeth, Seth's teeth. They're sharp, like shards of broken glass, and they glint as he jeers at me. He's laughing. He reaches out with boney claws to grab me, to drag me towards him, and I kick at him, screaming.

And I'm bolting upright, my heart pounding away in my head and my hands gripping hard to the material beneath me.

I'm fine. I tell myself quickly, frantically, over and over again. I'm fine. Just a bad dream. Another one. Just another... disconcerting dream. I bite back a groan, shaking a frustrated hand through my hair, trying to dislodge the remnants of the dream from my mind.

As I try to put the breaks on my heart rate, my thoughts refuse to stop spinning. Everything that's happened today becomes fresh and sharp in my mind once again.

Particularly, Seth. The conversation in the parking lot. Him freaking out and blowing up into his monster again. Him... grabbing me.

An audible gasp jerks from me, and my hands fly to my sides, where those claws had held me. Pressing and prodding, I feel for the wounds I know have to be there, but I find none. I'm fine.

Blowing out a sigh, I relax, albeit uneasily. Still, I scowl down at my abdomen, pressing my hand flat against my miraculously unmarried side. A shudder shakes my body as I remember the feel of being pressed against that monster, its claws so close; afraid to hold on, but more afraid to let go. I'd been terrified, when he'd run at me like that. When he'd grabbed me, I thought... I thought it was the end, honestly.

But he hadn't attacked me, and I think maybe clinging to him for dear life had been far scarier, because it lasted far longer than bleeding to death probably would have. And now I'm here. Wherever here is.

I stare down at whatever I'm sitting on. A... really old looking sofa. It looks like it might have once been red, but now it's... whatever color it is now.

Shifting uncomfortably on its stiffly stuffed cushions, I glance up slowly, at the room around me. It looks like a sparsely decorated living room, with peeling wallpaper and water-warped floorboards.

Across from me, there's a doorless doorway that seems to lead to a kitchen of sorts, and against the wall beside that is a set of wood steps leading upstairs. On the opposite wall is the front door, beside which is a little end table and a small wall mirror. Resting on the table is a little dingy jar of what appears to be money.

Whose home is this?

Whose sofa am I sitting on right now?

Did Seth take me here?

From somewhere upstairs, a floorboard creaks, and I jerk at the sound. The creaking manifests itself into footsteps, and I tense as I listen to them move about above me. Who is it? Am I in some stranger's home right now?

My whole body jitters with nerves as the footsteps near the stairs, and I find myself preparing a million different explanations, all of them crazy and implausible. The stranger reaches the top step. The first thing I see of them are inky bare feet.