Harmon's toe fell off.
There it was, sitting on his carpet,
while congealing blood slowly leaked out of the stump where his big
toe should have been. He stared in disbelief, utterly shocked at the
sight. A definite ache was coming in waves from the top of his foot
up to his knee. He convinced himself to think through his
predicament. He'd heard of plenty of smashed toenail cases, where the
nail eventually died, disconnected, and left a black and bruised toe
behind... maybe this would be the same.
Now he was almost certain he'd seen a
monster down the alley behind his apartment last night. He'd stumbled
back, and fallen into a puddle of … goop... wearing nothing but
sandals. Harmon could see his back of trash out the bedroom window,
still sitting on the ground by the dumpster where he'd left it in his
haste. He remembered the breath he'd taken, convincing himself just
enough that he'd watched one too many horror films that month. He'd
gone inside, quickly kicked his sandals into the front closet, and
gone to his room, not even turning out the lights. He'd been able to
get to sleep, but had not been able to go back out in the dark.
Eyes. He remembered red eyes, and shiny
sharp claws the size of his head.
Harmon shook his head to clear his mind
and quickly reached with his left hand for the corded telephone on
the desk to call for a ride to the hospital. He felt a sudden pin
prick at his wrist that made his gasp in pain. The prickling spread
like electricity across his wrist and through his palm as he watched
with his own two eyes a black ring form where his watch should have
been.
Panic rose from Harmon's stomach to
settle in his chest and around his lungs. Struggling to breathe in
and out, he watched as the skin around his wrist bone peeled back
wetly and his flesh was eaten way by an unseen force. Exposed white
bone began to crack and pop, splitting away from his arm. His voice
caught in his throat; his fingers went limp and his hand severed
itself from his arm before his eyes to rest on the dresser, leaving
him with a burning stump in mere seconds.
Harmon stared wide-eyed, and released
an uncontrollable shout of fear as he reached over with his remaining
hand to pick up the severed limb, now oozing red blood into the light
wood of his dresser.
Leprosy, zombification, and Apocalypse
by aliens all crossed his mind as he raced with his hand out the
bedroom door and down the hall. As he ran past the bathroom, his
right knee cap popped with
such force he was thrown to the ground with a yelp. Unsuccessfully,
he tried to catch himself with his severed limb. Harmon's cheek bone
fractured at the impact, and his face rushed across the carpet.
White
hot fury raged in his left hip where he heard a sickening creeeeeak
followed by a slurrp,
like tearing apart a cooked chicken leg. Screaming filled his ears as
he dragged himself across his living room carpet, reaching,
stretching for the front doorknob. There was a throbbing more intense
than he'd ever felt in his life. His entire left leg now lay askew,
detached six inches away from its rightful place at the base of his
hip; the skin on his thigh blackened and bloody, tiny veins and
muscles still attached to his body. Following with his eyes a trail
of blood from his bedroom, he turned to see his right leg maimed at
the knee, laying down the hall ten feet behind him.
Blood squirting
from his missing appendages and stumps, moans and grunts spewing from
his mouth, Harmon collapsed on his back mere feet from his dead bolted
front door. Too weak to speak or call for help; too drained of blood
to lift his head. Searing pain filled his side, and a warm wet
feeling spread from his stomach.
A soft
scraping sound came from the coat closet. Slick, wet sounding
footsteps made their way across his entry way just outside Harmon's
blackening vision. Seconds passed with Harmon listening to a thick
drip, drip, drip like a leaky faucet, just inches from his head.
Something breathing
hoarsely and deeply.
Harmon felt his
life seeming from what remained of his body. Darkness continued to
fill his vision, and all he could feel was dull, cold pain. No time
to wonder why.
The last thing he
saw was the monster chewing on his severed hand.
