Stories Hub / Non-Erotic / End of the Cycle

End of the Cycle

by wakingDown 12/21/12

All characters are over 18.

This is a concept I first wrote out during my trip to the sandbox. I hope you like it, but understand if you do not. I had to write this out to cement it in my mind. I figure there may be others who like it, so am sharing it. Thank you.


She sat huddled the kneehole of the desk, tears rolling down her face, listening to the carnage outside the office. She could the demons laughing and gibbering as they rampaged, tearing through anything and anyone they encountered. When the door burst open and the sounds of the struggle crashed into the room, she held her breath and waited for them to find her. The sounds of a frantic struggle were deafening as they slammed into the walls and the desk. There was a loud, tearing boom and one of the demons slid over the desk and collapsed to the ground in a heap, its long twisted limbs bloody and tangled. A large chunk of its torso was blasted open. She creamed a short screech before clapping her hands over her mouth. Hoping nothing heard her. The room was silent a moment, the havoc in the background covering what little sounds were there. The click-clack of a shotgun being pumped seemed very loud when it came. She whimpered a little at the harsh sound.

"Someone there?" A rough voice asked quietly. "Come out now or I shoot."

She crawled slowly out from under the desk, and stood up. Her legs were shaking and her tears were flowing freely as she turned. She saw a man in a heavy coat, his face scruffy and lined, his clothes ragged and dusty, a splash of blood across his chest. He lowered the shotgun and sighed, his shoulders sagging, his relief obvious.

"Girl, I almost blasted you. Are you alright? What the fuck are you doing here? Never mind. Let's get the hell out of here. The city is swarmed." He said, jamming shells into the shotgun.

She sighed as well and stepped around the desk. He looked at her a moment before pulling a small pistol from the pocket of his coat. She tensed as he did, but he held it by the barrel, offering her the handle.

"Take this. It doesn't kick hard, and it won't jam." He said quietly.

She took the gun and was surprised by its weight. She held it carefully, keeping her fingers well away from the trigger. The gun felt strange in her hands, alien. She was entranced by the thing, her eyes riveted to the flat black metal of the barrel and cylinder.

"Just point and pull the trigger. Just don't point it at me or you." He said as he glanced out into the hallway. "Let's go"

They went out, trotting down the hall, towards the large double doors with the Fire Exit sign over them. He cracked the door and peeked out before opening it enough for them to leave. The street was a mess, it looked like a warzone, which she figured it was. He led her down the street, moving from car to car, from doorway to alleyway, keeping them in shadows and cover as best he could. She did not know where he was leading her, but she didn't really care. He was armed, had already killed at least one of them, and was protecting her. He ducked into a store front through the shattered display window. She followed, trying to keep right at his heels in the gloom. It appeared to be a sporting goods store. He led her to the back, his shotgun pointing wherever he was looking, watching the aisles and display racks for any sign of movement. He reached the back wall and it's collection of guns. He knelt next to the counter and whispered to her.

"Stay here, behind the counter. Don't move, don't make a sound. Unless you see one of them, then you scream, and I'll come. Now stay put a minute." He breathed before disappearing back into the aisles. She crouched behind the counter, trying to look everywhere at once. It seemed like he was gone for a very long time, even though it was only a few minutes. She heard him returning, carrying a bunch of gear. He set his load down next to her and began sorting. He had two backpacks, one large, one smaller. He jammed water bottles and packages of freeze dried foods into the larger one, along with binoculars and a few boxes she couldn't identify. Into the smaller one he shoved a stack of first aid kits, gloves, jackets, winter hats, and heavy socks. He looked through the case behind her and picked out a small stack of boxes of ammunition and jammed them into the larger pack. He wrapped a couple of tarps around three large pistols from the rack and put them in the smaller one. He pulled the larger one on and she took the smaller. They made their way to the side of the building and took the emergency exit out into the alley. They went to the back of the building, to the cinder block retaining wall. He gave her a boost up the wall to the ledge, where she helped him climb up. He helped her over the chain link fence at the top and followed after. One the other side was a small strip of scrub grass before the lanes of the freeway. They crossed in a hunched trot and slid down the short embankment. At the bottom they were at the edge of the bushes and stunted trees that marked the edge of the small forest that ran along the edge of town. They made their way through, being as quiet as they could.

On the other side of the woods they found a large field, the wild grass waist high and waving in the small breeze. They slowed as they entered the field, feeling safer. The sounds of the mayhem in the town were muted and seemed very far away despite it only being a little under a mile back. The full moon turned the field into waving silver that was sheer beauty. Too late they heard the shriek of the demon that leapt up from the grass. He swung the shotgun over, but it was already on her, its long jaws closing on her arm, just under the shoulder. She was too shocked to scream, simply gasping as it bit down. The pain was immediate, intense, and all encompassing. She could do nothing but stare as the beast dragged her to the ground. She saw the teeth sink deep in her flesh, felt the tips working their way towards the bone, felt the immense heat of its thick breath rolling over her. Then he was there.

The man slammed his knife into the side of the demon's head, the long, thick blade piercing deeply. He pulled it free as the thing howled around her arm. He hacked at the beast's shoulder, removing the arm that tried to swipe at him. He then, holding the bucking thing as steady as he could, stabbed into the demon's mouth, the heavy blade smashing through the base of its teeth along the gum line. With the blade firmly seated in the thing's palate, he pried as carefully as he could, opening the jaws while trying not to cut her. He freed her arm and wrestled the thrashing thing aside, frantic in his efforts to pull it away from her. A short struggle for control of the blade ended with him driving it into the demon's throat. As soon as he was sure it was dead he scrambled over to her side. She was laying on her back where they had fallen, her already pale skin ashen. The ragged holes and splashes of blood were a sharp contrast to her white skin. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

"Help. Please. It hurts." She said, her voice a hollow rasp. He cut the straps on her pack and eased it out from under her carefully, cursing himself for putting the first aid kits at the bottom. He dumped the pack and grabbed a couple of kits and tore them open. He dug in his pocket franticly and brought out a small prescription bottle. He shook out three yellow pills and dropped them in her mouth, tipping a bottle of water for her to swallow.

"Ok, this will hurt, but I have to do it. Those pills will help soon, but I have to do this now. I'll be as easy as I can. Bite on this. It will help." He said, his voice shaking, as he held the leather sheath for his knife at her mouth. She bit on it and he opened the blade on his small pocket knife. As carefully as he could, he began to remove the teeth that had broken off in her arm. She alternated between whimpers and creams, all muffled by the sheath as her teeth clamped down on it. He finished removing them, nine in all, and put the knife aside. He quickly cleaned the area as best he could with water and peroxide before he threaded a needle from one of the kits and began to stitch the larger holes as best he could. She kept twitching and making noise, which he was glad to see. He was terrified that at any moment she may grow still and quiet. He worked quickly and well, his hands skilled with the needle. When he had the last large one stitched he cleaned the mess as best he could with water again before putting down a layer of large square gauze pads. He then wrapped it all with a roll of gauze and pinned it in place. When he pulled the sheath from her mouth he could hear the teeth pop free of the small holes they had dug into the leather. Her breathing was a little slower and deeper, but not much. He wiped her fine, almost white hair from her face, being as gentle as he could. She smiled weakly up at him.

"Not. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Is it done?" She whispered.

"Yes. All done. Just rest now, try not to think about it, ok? The pills will kick in soon. You did great. Just relax now." He soothed, digging out another pill bottle, this one antibiotics. He did not know if the demons were poisonous or carried diseases or what, but he figured best to play it as safe as he could. She swallowed them with more water and took the bottle with her good hand. The hand shook a little, but was steady enough for her to sip the water without spilling it. He gathered some of the socks into one of the wool caps and made a makeshift pillow for her and draped his coat over her for a blanket. He sat next to her; one had resting on her good shoulder, the other on the handle of the shotgun laying across his lap. He sat that way all night as she drifted off to sleep, watching all around them and checking her until the sun came up.

She woke up to a horrible, deep, throbbing ache all along her right arm. He was still there, sitting beside her. He looked down at her and asked how she felt.

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