Chapter 1
Miss Jackson. Why don't you tell me what happened?
I've already told you bas-
Please Miss Jackson, you have, indeed, told the Police your story a number of times now. I believe they are recommending you should be sectioned.
Like Sam? I know what I saw.
I know. I believe you, the men outside don't. I want to help you but I need you to help me. Please, start from the beginning.
Who are you then?
I work for the government. Intelligence.
Like Spooks? Oh. And you believe me? Ok. Ok. Well. It was... what time is it?
Now? 6:30am.
Then I guess it must have been 10 hours ago. We were in the flat watching TV and just chilling out.
You and Mr Fischer?
Sam? Yeah. Anyway, he was, he... he was getting some beer from the kitchen when the light went out.
"Sam? Stop pissing about!" Carla shouted as she sat in the darkness. Then her face creased in confusion as she looked at the quiet grey square where the television should have been. "Sam?". Carefully feeling her way with her feet, her hands out in front of she made her way to the windows. As she did so she felt the quietness of the flat, the constant hum of machinery she took for granted was gone. Fumbling in the dark she pulled at the curtains, the light from the city flooded into the room, pale and yellow but enough for her to see. As she turned to look over the gloomy mess that was her front room there was a crash. "Sam?" Carla heard the panic in her voice as she stumbled for the door.
The hall was also dark, the whole flat seemed to be without power. With only the dim light filtering through from the lounge Carla knelt down and began to feel her way through the hall to the kitchen. There was a gust of wind above her head, she turned, searching for what caused it, as a damp salty smell assailed her. She could hear movement in the kitchen, something scrabbling at the floor and a wet gurgling sound. Biting her lip, a muffled cry of animal panic escaping her throat, she crept towards the kitchen. Again there was the smell of old fish and something wet slapped onto her back.
What were you wearing at this point?
Wha?
Sorry to interrupt, I'll try not to, but what were you wearing?
Is that important?
Yes.
A jumper, the flat was cold and we've being trying to cut the bills down. So I had my t-shirt and a jumper on top.
Thank you. Please carry on.
I rolled over, I think I screamed, something... something squished. I felt something wet, wet and rubbery on my back. I... I... crushed it on the floor and pulled of my jumper.
Ah.
Shaking, Carla sat on the floor, her mind a blank as she listened to the noises in the dark flat. The scratching from the kitchen was subsiding, and from the corner where she had thrown her jumper a sticky bubbling hiss. There was a faint sound, like a bicycle pump being used and she shivered. Something caught her eye and she froze, looking at the apparition glistening in the dim light. A conical bulb floated in the air trailing streams of slime that twisted in a wind she couldn't feel. Slowly she slid her self along the floor, away from the thing floating above her, away from the jumper still bubbling in the corner. Her jeans scraped on the floor and the thing twirled in the air, the writhing mass beneath it whipping it around. Her breath caught in her throat as the thing slowly drifted through the air, disappearing into the shadows above her. Beneath her hand she felt something, a shoe, one of the set of heels she'd kicked off the night before as soon as she got in. As her fingers gripped around it a though came to her. She smiled in the darkness, a feral grin with no trace of mirth.
As she tightened her grip on the shoe there was a crashing noise, the kitchen tap loud in the dark silence, splashed on full power. Carla tilted her head, listening as the sink began to fill, she almost missed the quiet hiss and movement above her. Focussing all the fear and rage that was building up in her she managed to spot the thing as it glided into the bathroom. She didn't know what it wanted but she was going to stop it, somehow. Scrabbling along the floor she made her way towards the kitchen to where the earlier noises had come from. She could make out a shape lying on the floor, slowly she moved towards it raising the shoe, ready to strike with the five inch heel. She let out a scream and plunged the shoe down towards the shape on the floor, just as it was about to hit she realised. "Sam!" she screamed, twisting her body so she landed on him rather than impaling him with the spike. She could just make out his face, frozen in a rictus grin his eyes darting from side to side. She backed away the shoe now gripped in both her hands in front of her like a talisman. She could hear a quiet sobbing, but she could not work out were from. As she backed across the kitchen floor she bumped into something else, she spun around, something cold and wet slapped onto her face. Pain shot through her as the creatures rubbery tentacles wrapped around her head. Without thinking she brought the shoe round and slammed it into the wet stinking thing grappling her face, as the pain between her eyes flared she struck again and again.
The thing shivered and fell off, the pain in her face was going away to be replaced with a numbness. Frantically she tried to scrabble away from the thing she had bumped into and the quivering mess that had attacked her but her arms folded up. With a thud she fell to the floor leaving her gazing at the black chitinous pulsating thing that sat on her kitchen floor.
She didn't know how long she lay there, the sink overflowed and the water began spreading on the floor, she wanted to scream, to run but she couldn't do more than blink. She heard a crashing noise, a brilliantly white light shone across the room and she felt her mind want to snap as she saw the black thing properly. The gun was loud and it split apart.
Thank you we know what happened from there.
That was you?
My colleague. I was checking your neighbours at the time.
What was that?
A Fistula. It's complicated.
But you believe me?
Of course. In fact we'd like to offer you a job.