The Monsters Inside (Formerly Extract)

Light

At first, I couldn't even feel the pain. All that registered in my mind was the fact that a thick, syrupy liquid had rushed down my throat. A sudden cold crept over my body, freezing my limbs and shocking sensation into my brain. Uncontrollably, my arms and legs began to shake and twist, the pain of those positions not lost to my mind. Stop. Stop, it hurts. I tried desperately to gain control over the trashing. I clamped down hard on my muscles, forcing them to remain rigidly at my sides. Still I moved, vibrating so fast my hands were simple blurs. My muscles protested at the amount of energy I wasted to maintain this rigidity.

Suddenly an angel, appearing at my side, made me lose my focus. The thrashing resumed with tenacity, as if angered that I had dared to stop it. The angel's eyes focused somewhere next to me, and though I tried, I couldn't get her to look at me. The syrup had forced its way down my throat and was now blocking any attempt I made at communicating with this child of God. She began to glow, a warm, soft light that surrounded me. I could no longer feel my body's contortions, but one glance at my limbs assured me that they were indeed still lively. Yet I felt nothing. Nothing. Nothing but the warmth from her light, my angel. My protector.

I stared at her, her eyes finally meeting mine. I stared through paper thin slashes and memorized her face. I stared until my lids were too tired to stay open. I stared at my angel until the light was so bright, it blocked her from my sight.

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Never had panic seized me as tightly as at that moment. Everything moved in slow motion, too slow, too tortuously slow for the urgency demanded by this situation. A solid lump of human flesh laid thrashing on the floor, convulsing and contorting in positions that made my own muscles ache in response. A high pitched ringing sounded in my bloodied ears, reverberating off the walls and returning to me louder and shriller than before.

No one moved. Not myself, not the aliens. No one except the body on the floor. It shook, vibrating in a manner so harsh and inhuman it hurt to simply watch. And I couldn't. I tore myself from the bindings that held me captive and collapsed, a useless heap next to that lump of flesh. Beside my fighting hand, a smaller, bloodier mass –the source of the convulsions- stood out in stark contrast to everything else in the room. It was all I could see; despite how desperately I tried to focus my attention on the body in front of me. The only thing that seemed to matter at that moment was the little pink flesh that had caused an insurmountable pain.

The body –my companion's- resumed its thrashing and contorting, slipping from the easy seizures to a painful twist. His flesh had grown paler, his hair blacker, as if night itself had stained it. The red life leaking from his lips was such a shocking contrast in comparison to the rest of him; I almost didn't recognize it. My hand, the one furthest from the pink lump, rose to smear the stark contrast, fading it against the flesh of my companion's cheek. His eyes, tiny slits covered by thick lashes, had rolled back into his head, leaving only the whites on display. Still, the aliens remained motionless.

Then, as if shocked into motion, one lurched forward and ripped me from my partner's side. I can't remember if I fought back, or if the trauma had stolen my motor skills. A few more –tall, black masses- circled around him, their movements halting and starting, as if they weren't quite sure what to do. Do we save him, or let him die here? That word resonated in my head, getting louder and louder each time. Die, die, die. Do we let him die here?

The unanimous decision was made. Each shadow bent to support a piece of my companion, carrying him like a log out the door. Out, out where he had wanted to go.

The alien behind me slowly but firmly lifted my body up and placed it in an awkward sitting position against the wall. I was frozen, unable to move. He had tried so hard  a whisper formed in the back of my mind. He had tried so hard to go through that door. He had gotten his wish, but at what price?

Slowly, as if trying not to provoke a rabid animal, the alien crept away from me. His movements led him to the exit, to freedom, to the place where the boy had dreamed of going. When he reached it, his hand sought out the protruding sphere that operated the mechanism. Then, in the manner of putting a small child to bed, he closed the escape, the final creak it gave shattering the silence that had surrounded me. I can't recall if that creak really echoed in the now empty room, or if it was only my imagination.

 A/N: Hey guys, I just reread this story -and had someone else read it- and realized how confusing it got at certain points. The reason for that is because Violet and John are supposed to be losing their human sides, meaning all things human become foreign to them. I'll try to do less of this in the future, but I wanted to know what you guys think. Does the word choice make the story more interesting, or more confusing? Thanks!