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Monica: Part II

White eyes watched her from the dark. Blood dripped from pointed teeth with bits of flesh stuck between the gaps, and hands—so many hands reached for her through the pharmacy grate.

Moans and snarls wailed through the bars, rising to an echoing crescendo as the force of their bodies shook the counters in a complimentary drum roll.

She was trapped in the tiny room, locked in with nowhere to run.

At first, the Soapies were faceless; strangers with no name or attachments. Then, they transformed into grotesque images of people she knew: Corey, her cranky assistant, yet the man who'd pulled her over the counter at the last second, her parents, Eric...all of them pushed against the bars, focused on her with insatiable hunger in their gazes.

The foundations of the wall groaned, sending shelves toppling over and pills scattering across the floor like spilled candy. The thick security door creaked on its hinges. The backroom closed in around her and the lights flickered until they blinked their last and died, leaving Monica in the dark, surrounded by hungry, growling monsters.

Something, a piece of debris, plunked onto her forehead, pulling her attention up. The ceiling crumbled, sending bits of silicone and dust from the metal fixtures. A panel shattered overhead, and hundreds of squealing guinea pigs fell out of the hole, so many that they filled the room and rose to her ankles.

Horror seized her chest, silencing the ear-piercing scream in her throat as she danced on her toes and pulled herself on to the nearest counter, drawing her legs into her chest.

All around her was a sea of black, brown, and white rodents. When a shuddering gasp escaped her lips, thousands of round, opaque eyes snapped up at once, all the same shade as the Soapies outside. Pink noses dotted the furry mass, all sniffing and moving together toward the source of fresh food in the center of the room.

Tiny, furry bodies slammed into the cabinets and each other, skittering in a forward direction despite the barrier. Then the smart ones climbed over those on the bottom, forming a ladder of wiggling, squirming creatures.

Monica struggled to move, as if lead flowed through her veins instead of blood. Slowly, she reached for one of the shelves atop all the others, and crawled on. Teeth snapped at her feet; the guinea pigs were jumping like a shark reaching for its prey. She jerked her leg away, slamming it into the sharp metal as she continued to scamper to the next surface, away from the ravenous horde.

The pile of pocket-sized monsters doubled and tripled until it resembled a walk-in ball pit, except for the part where the people instead where zombie snacks. Balls of fluff in multitudes of color creeped up like the high-tide, flooding the receding surface and cutting off her means of escape.

The drive-through window appeared ahead, and Monica continued through the obstacles course of shelves, ceiling panels, and countertops until she reached the opening. The outside was dark, like she was looking through a blacked out pane of glass leading to a secret room. In her memory, it led to an asphalt parking lot. Here, it was a blank panel, and she wouldn't know what lay beyond until she opened it.

A bang against the door behind her made her jump as the Soapies rattled the cage behind her, fighting harder than ever. With her heart racing faster than a rocket, she forced the window open, sliding through before she became dinner.

Her soundings changed. Down she tumbled into the darkness until she was submerged into the water. Bubbles roared around her ears, air whooshed from her lungs, and she drifted weightlessly beneath the surface. She couldn't see; there was still no light, and she didn't know where "up" was.

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