DECEMBER JANE

December: Bad Idea

Smiley had a woman laying down on his usual operation table. She was calm, almost hopeful looking, as I set the demo machine up. This was definitely not a good idea.

"Pull this thing and that opens a syringe capsule," I explained, tapping a small lever. "Then this knob will hopefully gauge the amount of... whatever the stuff is, that comes out."

The woman now looked worried. Ann gave me an angry glance. Smiles just nodded. "And these things?" He touched two wrist latches connected to clear tubes. "Oh, those?" I said. "That's for more intensive care."

He smiled. "Excellent demo, December."

"Thanks," I said. "If it breaks, call for me, alright?"

He nodded, already adjusting the overhead mechanical arm. I sighed and walked out. The thing wouldn't break, I knew that. I spent two months designing the thing. Thank God, really, because I refuse to walk back in there and deal with the crazed 'patient' within the next hour.

I waltzed back into my room, looking at my notebook. In the free time I had on occasion, I continued to work on the smoke bombs. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I actually built them. Parts wouldn't be hard to find. Ann showed me where the junkyard was, which was only a twenty-minute walk away. Obviously, it was the old one that came with this town, but it had plenty of gems.

Opening my notebook again, I looked over all of my work. At that moment, I made a decision. I would commit to building this thing.

I packed my usual stuff, put on my typical fit, slipped on my boots, and left.

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I arrived at dusk, the sun a light orange smear in the lavender sky. The junkyard was mostly filled with old rusty cars. That alone was perfect.

The first thing I went after was an old station wagon. I cracked open the hood and started to dig through the parts. Wires were a must. Coils, definitely. Scrap metal that started to fall off the frame was also a good snag. The hose clamps on the radiator were my final steal.

My bag was soon filled all the way, and I figured it was a good time to dash back home. I walked away from the yard, confident with my scavenging.

In the corner of my eye, a shadow dashed between piles of junk and old cars. I turned around, taking in my surroundings. It was probably a raccoon or something. No biggie. I tried to walk off again when I heard a large clank from somewhere in the metal scraps. This time, I decided chances were not something I wanted to take. My hand found its way to my pistol and wrapped around the grip. I flicked my safety off.

A human-like figure leaped from behind the station wagon I rummaged through a moment ago. I ripped my gun from the holster and aimed it at the figure that ran at me.

When I managed to get a good glimpse at it, I was horrified.

Its eyes were void pits in its skull. It was hairless, merely skin and bone, with long clawed fingers. Crawling on all fours, it was actually pretty fast. It was either a spawn of hell or a human spider gone wrong.

I shot in its direction. I managed to hit it with four shots, stalling it and tripping its course. But it didn't stop. It didn't die.

My other option, which I decided upon, was to run.

I sprinted out of there as quickly as I could, sometimes running backward to take another shot at the creature. I tripped doing that once, but I managed to hop back up again and sprint. I didn't bother running backward again until I got close to the hospital.

I turned one last time and shot the fucker right between the eyes.

The thing cried out in horrifying shrieks, sounding like seven souls from one throat. It limped and ran off into the night. There was a small trail of dribbled blood behind it. I watched it run, finally catching my breath from the race against death I just took. "Oh my god," I whispered. Another moment, and I decided I should probably get back to the hospital and tell Ann and Smiles. I stumbled, adrenaline still shaking me from my core.

On the way back, I kept my pistol by my side, loaded and ready. I raised it and aimed at every small noise in the rubble. Not today, Satan, and never again.

I finally made it back to the Hospital, where I found Ann walking out of the entrance. She was dressed down now, in sweatpants and a tank top now. She looked at me with a tense expression, but it melted as she got closer.

"I thought I heard gunshots," she said. "I thought that was you. I guess..." she trailed off when she saw my pistol out. "... were they from you?"

"Yeah. They were," I blurted. "There was a fucking demon near the junkyard? You know about that?"

Her tense face set back in. "Oh, God, what was it?"

"I have no idea." I considered putting my gun up, but decided against it. We were still outside, and God knows what else was out here. "It had weird-ass claws and it was shrieking-- it was traumatizing, I swear to God. I'll never get it out of my head."

She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it and looked around us. Grabbing my bicep, she dragged me back into the hospital. I didn't resist, and I ran back inside, with no consideration of coming back out. Ever.