Arrest Report 10134 #horror #fiction

Hello Travelers,

Here’s a random short story for you all. This was originally published in The Siren’s Call (link to the issue on my Fiction page) under the name Alex Chase (aka yours truly). I hope you’re having a great day–share this with your friends, and you’ll certainly make mine.




Arrest Report 10134

*The following is a transcript of the questioning of suspect 10134, who was apprehended for drunk and disorderly conduct, grand theft auto and two counts of using a vehicle while under the influence of an unknown intoxicant. After arriving at the Exxon station at the outskirts of Hashfield, he proceeded to steal an oil tanker and drive it down 3rd avenue. He was arrested after driving four blocks. The suspect has refused to identify himself and had no ID on him. He is a fair-skinned male, Hispanic or perhaps Asiatic, late thirties, and stands 5 foot 11.

Officer Jallot: Please state your name and age for the record.

Suspect: Its name? Nah, I dunno its fuckin’ name.

OJ: Not its name, your name.

S: My name? Listen, sonny, my name isn’t important. What, you really think you’re gonna get some hot tips out of a guy like me? I got nothing’, guy, no info, got it?

OJ: Listen, we’re only here to figure out why a quiet little guy like you, especially a guy with no record and no debts, would go racing off into the night in an oil truck, endangering the lives of God knows how many others.

S: Oh, is that what you’re on about? …I’d say you wouldn’t believe me, but you wouldn’t care, and I’d sound like a tool for saying something so cliché, so I guess I’ll make the most what little time we have and get straight to the point… ‘Sides, were both in law enforcement, so I’m not going to BS you. See, there’s this thing, up on the hill, up in the Gentech lab where I work, that’s fuckin’ eatin people, you got that?

OJ: Excuse me?

S: You heard me. They made a damn monster up there. Not like they meant to; at least I hope they didn’t. But they did, so I had to try.

OJ: I’m not following. Who did what, and what did you have to try? Are you talking about some sort of animal?

S: No, no, they built it. Wait– not built. Solid things are built; this shit’s water, it’s untouchable, it’s chaos, sonny, and you just can’t fight that. The universe loves chaos, you know- that’s entropy for ya’. At least, that’s what the white coats would say. This thing, though, it shifts around like it never had a shape, like it don’t even know what shapes are, and when you least expect it, it’s tearin’ you right apart.

OJ: I need you to calm down or I’ll be forced to secure you to the county jail immediately. Now, slowly, start again.

S: Fine, sonny, but don’t come crying to me when this thing gets ahold you ‘cuz you’re too full of ya’self to listen. See, this all started a few months back. I worked night security over at Gentech. Some eggheads were working on a cure. A cure for everything. Developed some kind of formula or serum or nanobots or some other fancy science shit that’s supposed to turn regular cells back into stem cells or something, coat those little computer things in your own DNA so you can do whatever the hell you want. Reverses cancer and everything, or its s’posed to.

OJ: So what’s this have to do with the oil truck?

S: Calm the fuck down, you sound like my wife. Nag, nag, nag! Let me tell the story and we’ll get there when we get there, all right kid?

OJ: Sorry. Go ahead, then.

S: Ah, don’t apologize, got two kids of my own, just as impatient as you. I’m used to that by now. Anyway, I’m there, watching the front door, cause it’s my station and it’s been my station ever since Jim decided he needed to go to UC Davis instead of Atlantic Community College, when out of the blue I hear a scream. Naturally, my first thought was, ‘Oh fuck, I’m so fired.’ So I’m racing down the hall, thinking to myself, ‘Shit, shit, please don’t let anybody else be here, better be a tech dropped a beaker or some little tiny small accident ‘cause I’m not getting fired tonight,’ when I round the corner into one of the labs where I think it came from.

OJ: And?

S: Why you gotta ask like I wasn’t gonna tell you? I’m sittin’, I’m talkin’, you ain’t listenin’! Sit back, son, I’m not gonna leave you hangin’. So, back at the lab, I walk in and I see broken glass. I was like, ‘Hell yeah, just a beaker!’ Then I notice more. It’s too much glass. Way too much. I catch on that all the glass is on the ground, all the beakers and test tubes and flasks, all of everything is smashed to Hell and one of the test chamber doors is wide open. Lying on the ground is a pretty young thing named Daisy Thompson. Ain’t that the most American name you ever heard? She was a right fine young lady, beautiful, like somebody plucked her right out the ground and stuck her in a lab coat stead of a vase. ‘Cept she wasn’t fine tonight. Something clawed her, scratched her the hell up. That lab coat of hers was shredded, stained red, hanging all around her. So I rushed over to her, put my fingers to her neck, check see if she’s got a pulse, got breath in her chest, and you know what sonny?

OJ: …What?

S: She wasn’t dead! Not at first, anyway. Poor little lady didn’t stand a chance. She’s bleedin’ out, sayin’ something about their experiment goin’ wrong, that the computers overpowered the test subject and I’m not sure if I heard right but she seemed to say that he just downright melted, went splat on the floor in a puddle of shifty goo. Then Donnie Figueroa apparently stepped in to clean up what was left of it when some kind of tentacle thing, like a snake, shoots out wraps around his leg and drags them down into that puddle like it’s a hole to some alternate universe. ‘Cept its no hole, and there’s no new world on the other side, and life ain’t the twilight zone — it’s way stranger and a hell of a lot worse.

OJ: *Chair scrapes* Okay, it looks like we’re done here.

S: I’m almost done, wait, hold on, you need to hear this! I sit there, starin’ down at this girl the same way you’re staring at me: bug eyed and disbelieving, sure that the person I’m talking to is straight off the rocker. That’s when something scuttles along the floor next to me. I look down and there’s something like a head on top of a metal spider, staring at me, all shiny-wet with blood, flittin’ toward Daisy. Then this mutant-spider-flesh-psycho-cyborg thing lifts one pointed leg and splam! Put its leg right through the girl’s neck. The leg turns into a tube and the whole thing rolls up into this one skinny little tendril that works its way in. Seems to twitch a bit and some bumps start rolling along and I realize it’s drinking her brain. Have you ever seen someone’s brain get sucked right outta their skull? Makes you wanna hurl, I’ll tell you that. Her head starts cracking in ‘cuz there’s so much pressure, blood and pinkish-grey stuff sprayin’ the wall behind her. Then the tentacle jerks, flinging her head into that wall, sends skull shards everywhere. Then… Oh God, then it forms the shape of a man, buck naked, with a snake for a tail, and he starts hounding after me. I run out and I’m so freaked that the world goes black ‘til I see myself hit the emergency switch. Then I realize, ‘Shit, even if we can kill this thing, people might use the data in the lab to create a new one.’ I mean, if you thought you could create something that would make sure people don’t get sick anymore, wouldn’t you? If not for the people, then for the fame and money. So I ran out, hijacked that oil truck, and I was aiming to destroy that building and its godless research but ya’ll stopped me.

OJ: *Sighs loudly* Sir, please stand and put your hands behind your back. We’re going to continue tomorrow when whatever substance you been using has worn off, ok? I don’t want you getting worked up and risking injury to yourself.

S: *Chair scrapes* I’m fine with that, sonny. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of what you might be getting yourself into. I’m just trying to get by, make sure I do what’s right by me. You want to kill me for that, go ahead.

OJ: We’re not going to kill you, we’re just holding you for your own safety until your arraignment.

S: …Is that so? You know, officer, you’re a decent guy. *A harsh laugh is heard* A bad cop, but a decent enough person.

*The suspect was placed in a holding cell overnight. After a few hours, Officer Jallot began to hear a slight commotion from the detainee area. Upon investigating, he found that every incarcerated person had been slaughtered, with the only officer guarding them terrified to the point where he was able to speak. The victims were found without brains. Carved into a wall was the following phrase:

You’re a good man, Jallot. Stay that way. I’ll have my eyes on you.

Sincerely, 10134


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