FICTION — SHORT STORY
The Marked One
A blood-curdling scream split the silence, wrenching me awake. My heart thrashed in my chest, every breath a struggle. Eyes snapping open, I caught glimpses of the room bathed in the silver of the moonlight, which painted ghostly patterns through a gap in the window.
The scream dwindled to haunting whispers, merging with my pounding heart’s beat. “Just wildlife.” I tried to convince myself, but an icy sweat clung to my body. Tremors ran through my hands. Dreams and reality had grown indistinct, each waking feeling like a plunge into horror.
The tang of blood lingered in my mouth, and I felt phantom bones breaking beneath unseen jaws. Night after night, in the moon’s haunting light, the nightmares intensified. In them, I stalked the village, tentacles writhing from me, tearing families apart in their own homes.
Revulsion surged, bile burning my throat. Every whisper, every sidelong look from the villagers clawed at me. Memories of morphing into a tentacled horror replayed: my humanity vanishing, stalking the village on beastly limbs, driven by a savage hunger.
A sharp hunger twisted my insides, bending me in half. “Only a dream,” I whispered. Shutting my eyes, I willed away the horror. Yet, upon opening them, memories rushed back—an odd stone, a pull I couldn’t resist, a brief darkness. Those events birthed these nightmares.
Purple symbols, alive with an uncanny glow, sprawled over my skin. They danced and throbbed, creating a ghostly light. I hadn’t seen them before sleep claimed me.
Desperate, I stood, my heart pounding loud enough to deafen. Shaky hands tried to spark the oil lamp. Its gentle glow showed my hut’s mud walls, but I couldn’t chase away the terror gnawing at me.
Under the lamp’s tremulous light, the marks on my skin moved like living creatures. Was this some dark magic? Before I could think, hunger tore at me again, driving me towards the chill of the night.
With unsteady steps, I stumbled out. Silence, thick and suffocating, blanketed the sleeping village. Dark windows stared back from clay huts. Some were crudely boarded, and protective chalk symbols marked doorways. The vibrant night chorus had vanished, leaving only a haunting stillness.
From a dimly lit hut, whispered voices grazed my ears: “Do you sense the chill?” A hesitant pause, then, “Something’s not right.” Long before these whispers, their gazes would falter and shift from mine, laden with pity and trepidation. The memory of old Mrs. Amina clutching her grandchild closer, averting her gaze from me in fear, was still fresh. Every such encounter only deepened the chasm between me and them.
The narrow dirt streets lay eerily silent, drained of life and colour. The world around me faded into monochrome, contrasted only by the purple symbols that throbbed beneath my skin. I staggered, the path ahead dancing in the hazy glow of a waning moon. Every nerve in me screamed in heightened awareness.
Darkness deepened, yet every leaf and rock stood out with unnatural clarity. Woodsmoke melded with the stench of livestock in the chilling breeze. A lone dog’s bark sliced the night, then nothing. Fear wafted from the distant villagers—an irresistible draw. The faint rustling betrayed creatures seeking refuge, and hushed prayers whispered from a nearby dwelling.
Blinking fervently, I fought the persistent hum in my ears. Yet an insatiable thirst persisted, one water could never quench. Deep within, a savage hunger roared to life, bringing with it an unfamiliar, predatory drive.
Gravity pulled me to all fours, the intoxicating aroma of life filling my nostrils. The once-familiar village now seemed like a vast prey-filled expanse, each distant heartbeat tugging at my instincts. My fingers twisted, skin stretching and bones snapping excruciatingly into claws. With every agonising shift came a perverse thrill. My teeth morphed, hungry and razor-sharp.
Suddenly, I was outside a familiar hut, keenly attuned to the four heartbeats within. Inside, four unsuspecting souls slept, unaware of the looming menace. Their scent made me drool, a deep growl reverberating in my chest.
Irresistible darkness beckoned me to the ornate wooden barrier. Stripped of my humanity, raw animalistic urges dominated. Ravenous hunger consumed all else.
Entering the doorway, searing pain floored me. Bones splintered and realigned, every shift forcing a guttural cry from my throat. Thick fur burst forth as I convulsed. Denial screamed in my mind, but the torment was all too real.
Once the torment subsided, I stood towering on four muscular legs. My sleek, tawny coat concealed bulging sinew. Deadly claws unsheathed, gleaming with menace. Though darkness prevailed, every hut corner lay exposed to my predatory gaze. Deep within, the last vestiges of my former self flickered, smothered by the beast.
With each step, the ground barely whispered beneath me. The air thickened with the metallic aroma of blood, and the warmth of life beckoned me closer. Four heartbeats grew louder, synchronising with my anticipation. Then, in a flash, I lunged, teeth sinking into vulnerable flesh.
As I tore into them, flesh yielded beneath my claws, revealing the pulsing meat underneath. Their screams became a symphony to my ears, harmonising with the hot rush of blood. Lost in a frenzy, I feasted until only silent remnants remained.
Heavy with my feast, I retreated to my shadowed hut, blood still dripping from my maw. Yet, as darkness beckoned, my hunger stirred anew — a promise of many more nights of terror.
Locked in solitude, I felt my very bones twist and reshape. My skin turned into a protective hide, and a heavy tail dragged behind me. My face stretched and contorted, making room for countless sharp teeth.
Under a swollen moon, my once-human semblance was gone. Hunger, raw and unending, drove me forth, each movement a dance of alien grace and power, scales glistening in the pale glow.
The village lay vulnerable before me, its inhabitants cowering behind fragile barriers. Their collective fear was a scent I relished as I wound my way through dimly lit streets, drawn to the tantalising promise of another feast.
Outside a particular hut, the gentle murmurs of a family reached me—a couple cooing to their baby. I lingered, listening to the vulnerability in their tired sighs. It wouldn’t be long now.
I settled, every coil of my being poised in anticipation. In the moon’s gaze, my sinister shadow played on the hut’s frail walls. As the family’s breathing steadied, hunger drove me to push against the door, plunging the room into darkness with my bulk.
Before the father could react, he was silenced. I turned my focus to the mother, letting her eyes widen in horror at my presence. Her screams echoed, and desperate pleas filled the air as she shielded her infant.
I relished each tear of her flesh, her desperate cries music to my ears. Only when her fight ebbed to frail whimpers did I silence her, savouring the warmth that flowed, subtly flavoured with motherhood.
With the child, I was methodical, each movement precise. I witnessed the fragile life flicker and fade. Consuming it, every shiver intensified my satisfaction—a hunger like no other sated.
For a week, the nights echoed with screams, silencing the day’s laughter. The once-lively streets bore the weight of shadows, toys abandoned, and markets empty. Hushed voices murmured tales of night demons and ancient beasts. Elders’ eyes, clouded with memories, traded fearful glances as mothers pulled their children closer, lips moving in silent prayer. Weapons brandished against me turned to ash, their flames dying as I tore through them, unyielding and relentless.
Lifeless bodies lay stacked, marked only by deep gashes and an otherworldly luminescent residue. Police spotlights found only dark emptiness, save for the gruesome aftermath of my hunger. Mutilated photographs passed through trembling hands, giving rise to hushed, shaky recounts of a looming, cunning shadow.
As more souls were claimed, panic surged like a tidal wave. The desperate villagers turned to the distant university, pleading for some scientific salvation. From their cries emerged Professor Dauda, a towering man with spectacles resting over grey-flecked eyes. He once left these streets chasing cosmic secrets, but now those same eyes bore a mix of recognition and grief. The professor, a beacon of solace in my memories, had whispered tales of celestial wonders. Yet here he stood, ready to confront the unspeakable terror haunting his past.
Amidst the blood-soaked aftermath, Dauda’s gaze held more sorrow than disgust. He discerned not a monster but an extra-terrestrial force. With a voice marked by certainty, he unveiled my alien lineage and suggested using piercing ultrasonic waves to ensnare me. The village leaders, desperate for an end, quickly consented to silence this demon.
Under the ghostly glow of the next full moon, a deadly snare awaited. Speakers, humming with power, encircled me, unleashing ear-piercing shrieks. Overwhelmed, I crumpled, every scream tearing through my senses, setting my very nerves aflame.
As I struggled to flee, suffocating darkness encased my head. Sharp darts, cold and unyielding, found their mark, flooding me with a numbing chill. My feeble resistance faded, dragging me into a consuming void.
Memories of insatiable hunger clawed at my mind, a void now left unfilled. The faint echoes of my humanity, long devoured by monstrous cravings, seemed almost lost. Yet, buried deep within this nightmare, a glint of the man I once was flickered.
Memories surfaced of a village filled with soft murmurs and furtive looks, not the chilling screams that now reigned. The solitude I once bore was a mere shadow compared to this nightmarish loneliness. As the dark abyss beckoned, a desperate plea arose: for the man within to break free, to end this damned fate. An innocent vessel, now warped and twisted by a cosmic parasite’s sinister design.
I was just a child when the village cast me away because of my family’s transgressions. Whispers filled the air, and I could sense the tension in the village square. Confusion and fear took hold of me. Born from the taboo love of two siblings—my parents—their love deemed unnatural. Upon the revelation, they were brutally executed in public. Yet, even amidst their disgust, the villagers hesitated to harm a mere child.
This village’s decision condemned me to a life of solitude in a distant, dilapidated hut. Regarded as an ill omen, I was perpetually isolated. Haunting visions of my parents’ public execution frequently replayed in my mind, their forbidden relationship’s details shouted to the gathered crowd.
Suddenly, calloused hands grabbed me. My screams of terror went unanswered. The faces around me were void of empathy, full of disdain. The village leader branded me as tainted, too perilous to live among them.
At eleven, they cast me into this rotting hut on the fringes of the village. With scarce provisions, I was left to fend for myself. Human connection, warmth, and sympathy were forever denied. Deemed a monstrosity, I found solace only in the surrounding woods. And then, just a week prior, I stumbled upon an oddly glowing stone—a harbinger of the nightmares that would come.
Endless days blurred into nights. My only companions were the shadows of lizards darting around and the hushed whispers of mice. I’d reach out, seeking a connection, but they’d always flee, deepening my desolation.
Nights echoed with my hoarse cries for help, each shout growing more desperate. I grew gaunt, hoping my weakened state might earn the villagers’ pity. Yet, they steered clear of the “damned hut.” As the walls seemed to press in, every distant owl’s hoot or rustle in the foliage reminded me of my unwavering solitude.
Lost in the silence, I’d reminisce about children’s laughter, elders weaving tales, and the warmth of community. A deep longing surged within me, wishing to belong once more. However, their avoidance and whispered tales pushed me closer to a lurking darkness.
As the creature I’d become, I exacted my revenge on those who ignored me. Ure, the village’s radiant beauty, who never noticed me, became my obsession. In the shadows, I’d watch her every move, captivated by her laughter and elegance. With each hidden gaze, the boundaries between admiration and fixation grew thin.
But as I further transformed, even these memories twisted. Overwhelmed by bitterness and fury, every recollection darkened. I reserved her family’s fate for last, craving the pleasure of their downfall. They needed to witness the monstrosity they birthed from ignorance. Their terror-stricken screams haunted my dreams, echoing the alien malevolence growing within.
My awareness faded, replaced by glowing symbols that danced over my skin. These marks, a testament to the grotesque change brought by the alien meteorite, drew me down a chilling path of solitude, disdain, control, and hunger, leading to inevitable destruction.
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