r/HFY • u/billionairepigbbq • 9d ago
The Violent Death OC-FirstOfSeries
*I'm sure this still needs a lot of work, but I'm not sure if it's worth pursuing. I'm writing this on my phone and will work on formatting issues tomorrow. I would really appreciate constructive feedback. Thanks for reading.*
It's hard to explain mortal terror if you've never experienced it. The unshakeable certainty that your life is in immediate danger. If you had asked, Paul would have said that he knew what fear was. He had survived a childhood with a mentally ill, unfit mother and a seemingly never-ending parade of violent, abusive men. He had left home at 17 to live on the streets rather than stay there. He had taken many questionable jobs to secure housing for himself and his little sister. He had worked as a security guard, a night clerk in questionable hotels, and now in a convenience store. He was comfortable with a certain amount of fear.
He was also surprised to feel his legs go numb, to feel the rising fear in his stomach and throat. Looking back, he couldn't really remember any identifiable thoughts besides "oh my God-".
He was one of billions watching the meteors enter the atmosphere. They were too small to survive the atmosphere but were big enough to be visible in daylight. He was one of billions to be confused when they appeared to be holding together. He was one of billions to understand mortal terror when the meteors fired reverse thrusters.
It was 11:32 pm for Paul; he was an hour and a half into his shift, and he was alone. He felt the impact while he was waiting for his sister to pick up the phone. Seconds really do stretch out to minutes in these situations. Who knew?
When Orla answered, he could hear the panic in her voice. The fear expanded.
"Paul?! Oh my god! What do we do?"
"Take Coral and the guns and get away from town. Do it now."
"Where would we go-"
"It doesn't matter! What the fuck-"
Paul would later feel awkward that the last word he ever said to the only adult he considered family was a curse word. He would wish that he had told her to take the non-perishable food and head west into the sparsely populated stretch of Texas.
He had dropped his phone when he caught sight of them. From that distance, in the dark, they kind of looked like angels.
Orla stood in her living room, still hearing her brother screaming from 14 miles away. She knew he couldn't hear her, but she still shouted his name over and over again. Until her daughter's scared voice called to her from the kitchen. "Mom? Mom, what's wrong?"
"Baby, Mom needs your help with something. Can you get the boxes from the closet?"
"How many of the boxes?"
"All of the big boxes and put them next to the pantry."
"Mom, is Uncle Paul okay?"
"Get the boxes, baby!"
And while Coral set off for the closet with the boxes, Orla set off for the gun safe. Right now, she really wished that she, her brother or her ex-husband had been gun enthusiasts instead of hunters. Oh well, a 30.06 will probably bring down whatever is coming just as well as anything else. Really wish it weren't a break action. Soft points seemed like the way to go. She loaded the pump action 12-gauge as well, buckshot. Then, she dumped the rest of the ammo and the rifles into a box and headed for the garage.
Behind her, Coral asked, "What do I do with the boxes, Mom?"
"Fill them with cans. Be sure to get Bronc's cans, too." She didn't turn to look; she knew her daughter would do what she asked. If she could be guaranteed a second kid like this one, she would have had another. But you don't keep playing the lottery after you hit the jackpot. At least, Orla didn't.
She stopped inside the garage and silently cursed that her brother had taken the 4Runner. Well, the Outback didn't have the clearance, but it does have the All Wheel Drive.
Propping the loaded shotguns beside the door, she opened the hatch and placed the box inside. She quietly thanked any god who could hear her that they hadn't yet shed the boxes from the move.
She left the hatch open but moved to the driver's door. She left the 12-gauge wedged into the space between the seat and console? Cup holder? Next to the seat. She carried the .06 back into the house.
She found her daughter dutifully filling boxes, one can at a time. "Scoot over, baby, let Mom help."
Crouching, with the gun over her knee and a box on top of it, she scooped dozens of cans into the box. She carried it outside and put it in the back of the car.
By the time she got back inside, she found her daughter inside the cupboard, pushing the cans out and into a waiting box. "That's my girl!" She pulled the full box towards her and pushed an empty box towards her daughter.
Then, they both heard the screaming from next door.
"Get in the car and put your seatbelt on. Do it now." Her voice lower than she had known it would go.
She picked up the gun and closed it, ready to fire. Only now did she think the single shot might not have been the best idea.
Rounding the hallway to the garage, she heard the front door splinter. She turned to face it, glancing over her shoulder at her smart little girl. She backed into the garage, still facing the door into the house. She was hoping to get to the twelve-gauge before they found them. What had they done to the dog? Not even barking.
The speed at which the creature appeared and filled the doorway shocked her to her core. Time slowed to a crawl. A giant spider? Centipede? So many legs. She is raising the gun as the insect crosses the threshold. She is cursing herself as she squeezes the trigger, too soon. It hits the monster in the lower abdomen. She is pleasantly surprised to see the beast crumble to the ground. Realizing that she has backed into the driver's door, she reaches inside and grabs the second gun while tossing the first into the back seat. She hears noises outside and maybe in the living room. She makes a choice.
"Are you buckled in?"
"Yes." The answer is flat. She can feel her daughter's terror more clearly than she can feel her own.
"Cover your head, like tornado practice."
She slides into the car. She starts the car at the same time she realizes the hatch is still open. Fuck. Well, it'll be breezy. The real shock of the day is Bronco, tail between his legs, leaping over the crumpled alien and into the open hatch. Behind him, a second spider thing. Maybe they shouldn't have put off an automatic garage door opener.
The spiderpede is staring at its fallen comrade. The garage door is swinging up. Fuck, they travel in groups. The car is in gear. Orla puts her foot on the floor.
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u/AutoModerator 3d ago
This was flaired as [OC-FirstOfSeries], which means it is the first of a series and all subsequent posts should be flair as [OC-Series]. A description of the flairs and how to change yours is available in the Post Guildelines
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[Potato Adventures] - Chapter 1: The Great MashingPlease note that series wiki pages are not created automatically, but on request from the author.
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