Olivier stretched her arms and cricked her neck from one side to the other. The hum of the empty laundromat helped keep her from going out of her mind while she scrolled from story to story, video to video on her phone. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned on the table, gazing out the window toward an old hotdog cart with the glare of the setting sun.
The man, Sethel, who managed the cart, asked that she watch it while he went out for dinner. She'd known him for as long as she'd been going to the laundromat and seeing as how he'd given her a few hotdogs on the house, she wasn't about to refuse a favor.
Click.
"Hm?" Olivier looked up and over to her right where her clothes were drying. The light had turned off and the machine stopped. She sighed. But as soon as she moved to stand up, the machine resumed its cycle and the light's scarlet glow returned. "Ancient machine," she muttered, returning her attention to the cart outside.
The cart's dented metal and chrome finish was tasteless at best, and she often spent time wondering how it could be improved. By the time she saw Sethel again, she'd usually forgotten or decided not to divulge what she thought. He was an opinionated man, and one who would not stop talking once he found a topic he enjoyed discussing. So Olivier restricted her time with him, electing to—
Thunk!
Olivier frowned. The noise came from her unit. "They better not charge me if it breaks," she muttered as she turned her head toward it. It sounded as if something heavy was inside. The machine continued to hum and whine until at last stopping. She sighed. "What a piece of junk."
Olivier bowed her head and glanced at her phone. Even if Sethel hadn't put her up to watching his cart, her phone was almost dead. She knew the way back to her apartment by heart, but she knew better than to drain the entirety of the phone's battery. Funny thing she'd learned about life was that it was often better to have something and not need it than to need it and not have it.
She scrolled past her screensaver, shook her head, then clicked the power button. The screen turned black, and a faint image reflected on the screen. "What the?"
A face had appeared behind her shoulder. Two dark sockets and pointed teeth stared back at her. Red streaks and sinew covered the face haphazardly. A stench like months-old meat assaulted her nostrils.
She turned around and shrieked.
The Lurker swept one lengthy claw toward her, and she ducked, falling backwards under the table with a hiss. The claw sailed past her into the other machines to its side, tearing through them like butter. The creature jerked it back, but the claw wouldn't budge. Tendrils of flesh coiled around the arm that had embedded itself into the machines and pulled. The claw was extracted with a sickening crunch, mending and reforming before her eyes. Blood and flesh flowed out of the dryer units, creating pools on the floor.
"W-W-What the fuck?" Olivier screeched.
She had to move. Why couldn't she stop shaking? Why did her body refuse to move?
The scarlet moved as if it had a mind of its own, wriggling and twisting toward the malformed beast in front of her.
If she didn't move, she was dead.
New flesh appeared, creating tendrils and webs of meat between the bones. A human spine poked out of the 'back' of the abomination.
This was her last chance.
A disgusting heat flowed out of the creature's mouth. It was hungry.
Fucking move!
Olivier crawled backward on her hands and feet. A whip of flesh stretched toward her, snapping the table in half. She squealed, then scrambled to her feet, snaking and ducking behind the other units to her left. Another tendril whipped through the air, cleaving through the upper half of the units. The broken parts fell to the floor with a crash, and as the Lurker retracted the appendage, she saw hints of bone within, sharpened to a fine edge.
The creature lurched forward and descended into a large mass of meat and bone and cartilage. With alarming speed, it wriggled toward her like hundreds of hungry worms.
"Eeeyaaah!" she screamed, shoving the door of the laundromat open.
The Lurker crashed through the glass of the store's window, landing beside her with a squelch. Olivier rounded the hotdog cart and tipped it over toward the mass of flesh. Dozens of uncooked dogs spilled onto the sidewalk, and the creature's scarlet mass encompassed the cart.
What the hell is that thing?
A blood-curdling belch erupted from whatever orifice the creature possessed, and after a momentary interest in the cart, it resumed chasing her. A terrified hiss escaped her throat, and she urged her legs to move as fast as she could. The streets were empty at this hour, but even so, she found that whenever she tried to speak, her throat refused to work. It was no magic or ability of the Lurker; her body simply refused to do what she asked of it.
"Stay away from me," she barely managed to whisper, her voice hoarse and dry. She dared not look behind her, but the creature's noises were growing louder, more prominent. A police station loomed a few blocks down, and as her eyes widened with relief, a wet appendage wrapped around her ankle and pulled. "No," she hissed as she tripped. Her cheek hit the ground, and before she had the chance to wince, the appendage pulled her into a dark alley.
"No, no, no," she breathed.
She was flung around like a ragdoll. Her back hit the ground with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of her. The unholy abomination lurched toward her, its dark urges radiating off its body. If you could call it a 'body.'
"Oh please, no," she said, the heels of her shoes scraping against the tiny pebbles on the cement. She scrambled away on her hands and knees until her back hit the brick wall. The Lurker's flesh dismantled and rearranged in a series of clicks and crunches. The flesh adjusted, creating new muscles and cartilage until a large cylinder with sharpened teeth lined the ridge.
Canines continued to puncture through the meat within, creating a large tunnel of teeth and pores. The stench was indescribable.
Olivier balled her hands into fists, and tears of blood began to stream down her face. The Lurker's 'mouth' reeled back, rotating while a guttural hiss escaped its mass.
"Get the fuck away from me!" Olivier bellowed, shutting her eyes and rubbing the jitter mark on her left forearm. A cool chill filled her veins. As the Lurker lunged for her, a shield of steel erupted out of the blood she'd shed. The metal created a wall between her and the creature. The fleshy Lurker's mass thumped against the metal. She looked up, horrified to see such a large dent in the structure. One, two, three strikes against the structure, and the creature had already torn a small hole through it. A scythe of bone cleaved through the shield, creating a clean hole for which the creature began to ooze through.
Olivier hissed, dodging the incoming tendril of flesh that had found purchase in her shield. The sharpened appendage sailed past her, drawing a line of blood down her neck. She clapped her hand to the wound, rolled to her right, then formed a long blade of steel from the blood on her hand. She was used to forming these metal objects from the iron in her blood. The shield she'd created moments before disappeared, and as the Lurker caught on, she sliced her blade at the incoming tendril. The steel cut through the flesh, though with more difficulty than she'd anticipated.
Wicked fast and disturbingly eager, the Lurker whipped a second tendril, then a third, then a fourth. Each of them reformed faster than the last, increasing at a speed that Olivier couldn't keep up with forever. With a quick movement, she shuffled the blade to her other hand and ducked to evade the next attack. She lathered the wall beside her in the blood leftover on her palm, and rows of rotating saw blades emerged from the crimson surface.
The combination of the creature's attacks and her sudden saw blades caused her enough fright that she fell over, concentrating on the blades. The Lurker was slowly dismantling them, but it was enough to keep it busy. Seeing her opportunity, she stood up and bit her hand. Warm blood poured out of her wounds, and she sprayed the crimson upon the walls on each side.
"Eat this!" she cried as more saws emerged. Blood and flesh sprayed over the contents of the alley, creating a disturbing sight of bone and viscera. Despite her attempts, however, the creature simply reassembled itself each time her blades cut through its flesh. Its frustrated wails filled the air, and she began to step backward.
Her concentration was waning. She'd used too much of her blood to supply her Jitter. Vertigo overwhelmed her, and soon she struggled to continue standing.
I have to run. It's only a matter of time until it breaks free.
She shook her head, and as she concentrated on the saw blades, she pictured the event in her mind and turned tail. She sensed the blades slowing as the distance between her and the Lurker widened. The police station was her only hope. She soared through the streets as fast as her legs would allow. Every step closer was another blade dismantled by the Lurker.
Meters separated her from her destination, and she dismissed the objects she'd summoned through her blood. She shoved her way past a boy in a tan suit, grabbing him by the arm and tumbling to the ground with him.
"Hey, what's the big deal?" the boy cried, rising to his feet.
"Don't go out there!" Olivier screamed, her voice finally hers again. "There's a Lurker out there!"
The boy frowned and glanced at the front door. He patted away the dust from his coat, then cautiously peeked outside. "Miss, there's nothing out there."
"I swear to you! There was this horrible creature of flesh and bone! It chased me and tried to eat me!"
The boy blinked.
"Little lady, are you okay?" a gruff voice from behind her asked. She looked over her shoulder to see a decorated officer in flamboyant colors and a poncho. A healthy head of graying hair framed a weathered face set with gold-colored eyes. A pair of skeletal arms crossed over his chest in addition to his normal set, and Olivier briefly wondered if they were props.
Olivier swallowed. "There's a Lurker out there!"
The officer looked past her at the door, and the boy shook his head. "I believe you." He looked back at her and proffered his hand. "Why don't we have a talk about what you saw?"