World Filter

The ear-piercing crash of an impact shook the ground. Dropping all of them into the sand. Something crashed into Mark's back knocking the air from his lungs. He heard a woman scream somewhere nearby.

Dazed, he slowly got up and looked back towards the Ice cream hut. Where it once stood, now there was a crater. Rubble and debris were scattered around. The entire area was covered with a mass of black oil-like sludge that seemed to boil and hiss.

Acrid fumes filled the area, bringing with it the smell of rot and decay.

The drop had passed overhead so luckily most of the substance was not near them. Looking around, Mark realized he needed to assess the damage done to himself and any of his friends.

His body ached but he found no damage to the bones or muscles. It was going to be bruised, badly, but otherwise, he’d live.

Turning towards Donny, Mark froze.

Donny was helping Grace to her feet, However, that was not what caught Mark's attention. A little ways behind Donny, Mark saw a man getting up from the sand, he looked like a normal office worker dressed up in semi-casual wear, and just behind him something was happening to the ichor. At first slow, but still unmistakable, movement caught Mark’s horrified gaze as a portion of ichor separated and contorted into a new form.

It spiraled up, building bones first.

Rapidly a skeleton started to take form and before it was even finished, muscles, flesh, and even organs began to climb onto its frame.

All the while the man did not seem to notice.

“Buddy watch out behind you!”Mark shouted trying to get his attention.

But the man seemed dazed and lost, staring blankly back at Mark. The creature had now taken full form, exhibiting a humanoid structure that seemed unnaturally crafted, as if an attempt to create life had been made, but a vital element was missing. So the result came off as sick and twisted.

Its skin was pale white with black pulsing veins underneath. Claws, where hands were meant to be. Teeth twice the length of any human.

The eyes were the worst part though. They seemed to glow with a hungry yellow light. As if they would consume anything and everything in their path.

In total, the creature came into being in less than 10 seconds. It looked around, spotted the man, and let out a wail of agony. Stumbling forward it moved toward its disoriented prey. Mark was frozen in place. The man had enough time to scream just as the creature fell on him. Sinking its fangs into his neck, ending his life instantly.

Mark tore his eyes away from the grisly sight long enough to look back at the rest of his party. Shocked expressions mirrored his own. Grace looked at Mark “We need to move, NOW!” panic seeping into her voice. He agreed, Looking back Mark saw the rest of the ichor was beginning to move.

Damn, that left the beach as the only escape. They would have to travel back along the strand until they found a path that was not blocked by this sludge. Mark was about to start running when a bone-chilling sight stopped him in his tracks.

Daphne was still on the ground trapped under rubble. That scream he heard earlier must have been her. Luckily she seemed awake, however, if she could have gotten out from under there she would have by now. Rushing forward he kneeled and tried to assess the situation. Her left leg was completely pinned under a huge concrete beam. It must have flown at her during the explosion. Daphne's eyes were open and she was leaning on her elbows, but she was unresponsive, not to mention he could see blood in the sand around her.

Looking over he saw dozens of forms taking shape in the black ichor.

“Donny, help!” Mark screamed as he moved to one side of the beam trying to lift it. His grip slipped and a piece of the stonework slashed into his palm. He grunted in pain. It was no use the beam was too heavy he doubted even 10 people could lift it.

Donny and Grace were already dashing away. Looking back, Donny turned, rushing to the other end of the beam and pulling Grace with him.

“Okay, on three,” he said.

Together they pulled. Groaning at first the beam began to lift giving Grace enough time to pull her out, Daphne was alarmingly quiet.

Something was wrong with that... That beam.

“Go!” Grace yelled. Just as the creatures were coming into being and began scattering, hobbling toward their nearest prey.

They all bolted, and Mark moved forward to the other side of Daphne. Looking towards the ocean they began running down the beach. Other people already had a head start. Chaos reigned as bodies were fleeing in all directions. They weren't going to make it. Daphne's injury was slowing them down and they were way too close to the point of origin. Already Mark could feel their hungry gazes on his back.

Just as they passed the docks he caught sight of their golden ticket out of there.

Mark stopped, almost pulling Grace and Daphne over. “Guys the boat, the boat! Donny!”

Sitting near the shore was the speedboat that up until recently had been a recreation craft, Now it was their best chance at survival.

Luckily Donny had spent one summer getting his skipper's license because he thought it would help him pick up more women.

They all turned towards the docks and began running down the wooden pier. Being the fastest and unburdened Donny was the first to reach the boat. He started weighing anchor and the sound of the engine roared to life.

Unfortunately, this was both good and bad news. Good, they had their escape route, bad, the thundering of the engine caused some of the creatures to separate from the hoard. Their speed was just barely above a walk. Stumbling to the edge of the pier, they cut off any route of escape by land. They were moving down the pier faster than Mark and Grace could carry Daphne.

Slowly they were gaining on them. They were so close to the boat but they needed a bit more time.

“Grace get her to the boat, don't leave without me”

Mark pulled himself away from grace and turned towards the approaching creature.

“This is insane,” he thought “I’m gonna get myself killed”

Looking around he spotted a toolbox leaning up against one of the posts. Scrounging through it, the best he could find was a screwdriver. It would have to do. Raising to his feet, he began to backpedal toward the boat. Still facing toward the hoard he noticed one of the creatures was way ahead of the pack. It was so close by now Mark could see the black drool frothing from its mouth. He took a glance back, seeing Grace and Daphne were going to reach the boat soon. He felt relieved. A sudden primal growl from in front of him was all the warning he got.

During this single moment of inattention, the creature lunged with inhuman strength, covering the remainder of the distance.

Mark turned back in time to see the creature flying at him in mid-air, mouth open. It was the embodiment of fangs and hunger

Mark had enough time to raise the screwdriver in front of himself. Watching as the creature’s neck fell right in the path of his weapon. The sickening sound of flesh tearing and sudden weight crashing into him had Mark on the floor of the pier. He thrashed trying to get the creature off, however, the lack of resistance made him quickly realize the creature was dead. Sitting up he looked down and saw the screwdriver had entered through the neck and went right up into its brain stem. He grabbed it and pulled it free with a wet squelching sound.

A gentle ping rang out in his ears.

With no time to ponder, he jumped up, turned, and dashed for the boat. Grace was helping Daphne get seated. He jumped in, and as soon as Donny saw his feet touch the hull, the speedboat launched forward, pulling away from the docks. Mark crashed to the floor panting. He sat up and looked back towards the beach. All he saw was destruction and chaos as bodies lurched across the sand.

Now that he had a chance to breathe Mark surveyed his friends. Donny was at the wheel and while he looked terrified, he seemed to be hiding it well. The only reason Mark could tell was that they’d been friends for so long. He knew when Donny was at his limit and he looked pretty close now.

In contrast, Grace looked like she wanted to lose her shit, she was shaking violently and she seemed ready to throw her hands up and called it a day. Daphne looked almost catatonic. She was barely responding to the situation at all, possibly head injury.

Mark moved towards the two of them.

“Hey Grace, I wanna examine Daph for a second. Do you think you could help me?”

Hopefully, he could keep her mind occupied and get some help looking over Daphne’s wounds.

Grace just nodded, Mark moved forward and started his checks. Two things stood out to him. Firstly, he was pretty sure she had a concussion.

Secondly, she had a large laceration running down the back of her left calf along with possible bone fractures from the crushing weight of the pillar. Most importantly though she was losing a lot of blood, even now. He had Grace apply pressure while he fashioned a tourniquet from a piece of discarded rope he found in the boat.

No wonder she was not responding. She must be suffering from severe blood loss. Daphne needed stitches and they were hours away from the nearest hospital. If they were even open after this disaster of a day. Either way, she needed help now, or she wasn't going to make it through the next couple of minutes, forget about the two-hour journey it would take to get to the mainland.